The Doctor Who Knew Too Much
by Pelman
Summary: Glimpses into the life of the Doctor. Chapter 91: "What would I become?"- An AU take on "The Next Doctor."
1. Hearts

**Author's Note:**

I was sitting in my communications class one day, thinking about how bored I was. I couldn't pull out a book and read it because I had to take notes, but the notes were not so extensive that they kept my mind busy enough not to be bored. So I wrote a sentence about Doctor Who at the top of my notebook page. It made me pleased. And astonishingly happy. Just seeing the words "sonic screwdriver" written on my paper in the middle of class made me smile. So I decided to write more.

Everything you read here was written during my various classes, in the lulls between ordinary note-taking. I've tried to create "snapshots"- moments in the life of the Doctor. If the snapshot makes you want to know the whole story, feel free to write it yourself! And let me know!

I've tried to alternate between funny stuff and serious stuff because we all know the Doctor is so much of both. So if you like the funny stuff better, feel free to just read the even-numbered chapters. If you like the serious stuff better, feel free to just read the odd-numbered chapters. Or read them all for a glorious excursion into Doctor Who land!

I hope you have as much fun reading them as I have had writing them.

**Disclaimer:**

I own a sonic screwdriver! And a TARDIS! And I- wait a second, that was just in my dreams. Fiddlesticks.

* * *

**Hearts**

He has two hearts.

He's often wondered about that. None of his other major organs have an extra.

He hasn't got two brains, or two stomachs, or two- well, you know.

But he has two hearts.

And maybe that's good. It's certainly saved his life on occasion (or his regeneration at least.)

But sometimes- when he's lost another friend; when he's destroyed another life; when he remembers again just how alone he is…

Sometimes he wonders if the reason he has two hearts is to allow him to hurt that much more.

Because even the hearts of Time Lords break.

* * *

_This one made me want to go and give the Doctor a hug._


	2. Movie Night

**Movie Night**

Martha walked past the door in the TARDIS, stopped, then went back and stepped into the room. The Doctor was sitting on a couch, intently watching the television screen in front of him. Then he noticed Martha.

"Ah!" The Doctor leapt off the couch and slammed his hand on the TV's off-switch. He half-turned towards Martha, his eyes seemingly interested in some spot on the floor.

"Doctor, are you crying?" Martha asked, mouth starting to turn up in a smile.

"No! No no no no no," the Doctor said, hands waving through the air as if to bat away any objections. "I was just- I was testing- I was-"

"Ha! You were!" said Martha, pointing at him. "What were you watching?"

The Doctor drew himself up. "I'll have you know it was a very touching movie."

"What movie?" Martha asked.

"Yes, a sweeping tale of a prince in a great empire…"

"What movie?" Martha said a little louder.

"…His Father, the King, is killed, and the prince is kicked out of his own kingdom…"

"What." Here Martha stepped right up to the Doctor and planted a finger on his chest. "Movie."

The Doctor took a step back and began talking even louder. "…But he returns to save it during the hour of its greatest need…"

Martha sighed, strode over to the TV and began looking around it.

"Martha, no!" Cutting off his impassioned ramble the Doctor grabbed at Martha and attempted to keep her away from the TV. Martha let out a laugh, however, and held her hand up, clutching the movie cover triumphantly.

It was _The Lion King_.

The Doctor let go of Martha, shoulders slumping. She turned around.

"Don't. Say. A word." the Doctor said, holding his finger up in warning. "Not a word. Or I'll…I'll…I'll kick you out of the TARDIS!" He delivered his threat with the air of a slightly desperate man.

"I've got a key," said Martha, arms crossed.

The Doctor knew when he was defeated.

* * *

_I think I like this one because despite how ridiculous it is, it is pretty much all cannon. We know the Doctor's watched The Lion King (and enough times to be able to quote from it) and we know he cried at the end of Book Seven of Harry Potter. Put those two things together and voila!_


	3. Flashback

**Flashback**

"But I love you," Donna said, unable to comprehend how her whole world could come crashing down on her.

Behind her, the Doctor flinched.

"I love you," Rose said, her last desperate words to a lonely god.

Leaving the Doctor unable to comprehend how his whole world could come crashing down on him.

He never got to say it back.

* * *

_A rare drabble inspired by an actual episode- The Runaway Bride._


	4. Bored: Games

**Bored**

The Doctor was bored.

Rose knew this because he had told her.

"I'm bored, bored, bored, bored, bored!" the Doctor sang as he walked around the TARDIS.

This was five hours ago. The situation hadn't improved.

The Doctor was currently reciting all the alien races he could remember. In alphabetical order. When he remembered a new one, he started all over again.

The tenth time Rose heard "Axons" she knew drastic action was required. She marched into her room, dug down into the bottom of her bag, and pulled out something she had been saving for an emergency.

This definitely qualified.

"Here," Rose said, marching back to the Doctor (he was on "Foamasi") and placing it in his hands.

It was an etch-a-sketch.

The TARDIS grew quiet after that.

* * *

_There was a reason that they were stuck in the TARDIS for a numerous amount of hours. I just didn't include it. I might in a later drabble. _


	5. Sorry

**Sorry**

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Five words. They seemed so weak, so insufficient. What do you say to someone whose entire world you've just destroyed? He knows there is nothing he can say; nothing that will make it right. But he has to say something, if only to prove to himself that he still cares.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

* * *


	6. Run!

**Run!**

"You know, just once it would be nice to have a better plan than 'Run!'" Rose said.

"But I like this plan! It's a good plan!" The Doctor glanced back at Rose.

"It's a stupid plan," said Rose, "Why can't we ever do something differen-" She ran into the back of the Doctor, who had stopped.

"Fine," he said, turning around, "We'll stand here and face the massive horde armed with my sonic screwdriver and your brilliant ideas."

They looked at each other. Echoing shrieks became louder down the corridor.

"Never mind!" said Rose, taking off in a run once again.

* * *

_The Doctor does seem to run away an awful lot. But what are the other options? _


	7. Fine

**Fine**

_Watching the two suns set in the burnt orange sky. Gazing into the heart of time and space and running- not away but to. To the brilliance of the universe. Sitting, laughing, surrounded by friends and family who-_

"Doctor?...Doctor, I think we're there." The Doctor did not answer. The voice grew hesitant. "Are you okay? You've been staring at the wall for the past hour."

He jerked his head up. "I'm fine."

Always fine.

Fine.


	8. Halloween Pranks

**Halloween Pranks**

The Doctor was annoyed.

"It was not that funny," he said, teeth gritted together. Rose and Mickey were leaning against each other, laughing. "And how was I supposed to know today was Halloween?...Rose…Mickey!" They were now rolling on the floor, laughing.

Rose roused herself.

"I think my favorite part was when he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and asked it to identify itself. "

"But what about when it fell on him?...And he said I screamed like a girl!"

They collapsed again.

With a sigh the Doctor turned his back on them and crossed his arms.

"Bloody stupid humans."

* * *

_Rose's line always cracks me up-I'm not sure why. Probably just the mental image._


	9. Betrayal

**Betrayal**

The Doctor paused. "But that's not going to happen, is it?" He started to say more, but abruptly shut his mouth. Then he turned around and walked out the TARDIS door, clutching his sonic screwdriver so tightly his knuckles turned white.

* * *


	10. Zoo

**Zoo**

"…It was right about then they made me leader of their city. Oh yes, got a statue and everything. I tell you, the banana is just the most amaz- WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?" The Doctor leapt onto the metal fence, his finger pointed and a horrified expression on his face.

Rose and Mickey sighed.

"THAT is a flamingo," Rose said, dragging him down before the stares of curious passerbyers, "And we are never taking you to the zoo again!"

* * *

_What other places would you not want to take the Doctor?_


	11. Frightened

**Frightened**

Rose had never seen the Doctor frightened before. Worried, yes. Angry? Of course. Even uncertain. But never frightened.

And now, as he scooted backwards on the floor, face flushed and eyes wild, for the first time in all their travels together Rose realized she was truly frightened too.

* * *


	12. Handbook

**Handbook**

"Well sorry!" said Rose. "What, is there a handbook for dealing with the Doctor?"

He spun around, a grin stretching his face. "Oh, I like that idea Rose Tyler, I do!" The Doctor clasped his hands behind his back. "Rule One: No wandering off when you're told to stay put. Rule Two…"

"Blimey," thought Rose, "They'll be no shutting him up now."


	13. Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall

**Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall**

"You don't understand!" the Doctor said. He looked up from where he lay, slumped against the wall. "They'll never stop, never rest, never give up- until they win."

Rose blinked. "But that's describing you."

* * *


	14. Sonic Screwdriver

**Sonic Screwdriver**

"I don't think that thing is actually a screwdriver." Rose leaned down from where she sat on the floor.

"Really?" the Doctor said, continuing to use his sonic screwdriver to repair a part in the underbelly of the TARDIS.

Rose let out a snort of laughter. "That 'screwdriver',"—here Rose made air quotes—"can open any door, made my phone intergalactic, can be used as a weapon in a pinch…is there anything it can't do?"

"Well," the Doctor said, pausing in his work, "There is one thing it can't do." He looked up.

Rose leaned closer. "What?"

"Tighten screws."

* * *

_The sonic screwdriver is to the Doctor as the multi-tool is to Survivorman. If you've never watched Survivorman, that made no sense, but if you have, you're laughing right now._


	15. Precipice

**Precipice**

The world hung poised on a precipice, the whole of creation holding its breath.

"No," the Doctor said.

"No?" The voice was incredulous with disbelief.

"I can't." The Doctor's voice begged for understanding.

"Can't or won't?" the voice said, scornful; hurting.

The Doctor closed his eyes and released the smallest of sighs. "I can't because I won't."

He turned away.

The world fell.


	16. Deathbed

**Deathbed**

"That's it- I'm dying," the Doctor said, pulling the bed covers over his head.

Martha pulled them back down. "You are not going to die!" She patted his arm. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

"I'm _the_ Doctor," the Doctor said, moving his arms up to cover his face. "And trust _me_- I'm dying."

He waved one hand in the vague direction of the door. "Go on and leave me, Martha. I don't want you to see the bitter end."

Martha gave a sigh of exasperation.

"For heaven's sake, Doctor, don't tell me a Time Lord can't handle a little cold!"

* * *

_I have a cold right now. Despite the fact that it's not deadly, it's still pretty miserable. On an unrelated note, this is the first drabble that I've written that is actually a drabble- 100 words. And I didn't even try!_


	17. I Love You

**I Love You**

_"The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're alive."  
__-O.A. Battista_

He's going to say it.

It's taken them being separated for all eternity but he's going to say it.

His heart is breaking but he needs her to know.

And then she's gone and even though he's a Time Lord, practically immortal…a part of him dies with her.

It was the part that says I love you.

* * *

_Another rare drabble inspired by an actual episode- Doomsday._


	18. Intergalactic Space Games

**Intergalactic Space Games**

A strange man dropped in front of him, jarring Edward from his early morning haze.

"Tag, you're it!" the man said, punching him in the arm before running down the street. Edward stood frozen on the spot. "Don't worry," the man called, turning around and jogging backwards, "You'll understand later!"

Edward's brain finally kick-started. "But who are you?"

The man stopped, a smile flashing across his face. "I'm the Doctor," he said, and vanished into the air.

* * *

_How would you like to start your morning out like this?!_


	19. Helpless

**Helpless**

He entered the room at a dead run, skidding to a stop in the middle of the room. His eyes took in the details at a glance.

The broken furniture scattered across the floor.

The blood..how could there be so much blood?

The utter lack of movement in the room.

Everything still.

And as he dropped to his knees in front of the body he knew only one thing:

He was the Doctor.

But he couldn't fix this.

* * *

_Technically I didn't write this in class. Rather, I composed it in my head during an extremely tedious data-crunching session for an economic research project I'm involved with. Funnily enough, the last two lines were what I came up with first, and then I worked backwards from there. _


	20. Laundry

**Laundry**

"I'm doing the laundry- I'll put your coat in for you, yeah?"

Martha's call echoed through the TARDIS, reaching the room where the Doctor sat, glasses on, studying a piece of paper intently.

"Sure, sure," the Doctor called back distractedly, eyes not leaving the paper, "Just make sure you empty the pocke-" He stopped, head coming up.

"Martha!" he said, lunging from the chair and running towards the laundry room, "Wait! I changed my mind- I'll wash it myself, just don't-" His frantic babbling was interrupted by Martha's shriek. "-look in the pockets," the Doctor finished, voice trailing off.

He stopped in the hallway, rubbed his face with his hands, and took a deep breath. Then he plastered a smile on his face and strode nonchalantly into the laundry room.

Martha stood there, holding his coat at arm's length.

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair and opened his mouth to speak.

Martha cut him off. "Is that some sort of HEAD I just found in your coat pocket?"

She looked at the Doctor in disbelief. He opened his mouth again.

"Never mind!" Martha said, "I honestly don't want to know!" She shoved the coat at his chest. "See if I try to do something nice for you again!"

As she stalked out of the room the Doctor looked down at his coat. Then he looked at the retreating Martha. His voice called after her.

"It's a nice head, though!"

* * *

_My sister said a head was "too macabre" to find in the Doctor's pocket but I don't think it was. In my mind, the Doctor just happened to find a head on one of his travels and picked it up and put it in his pocket. His pockets are bigger on the inside after all! Anyways, this fic is just as funny if you insert other random things for Martha to find in the Doctor's pocket. So feel free to do so at your mind's leisure._


	21. Master Mind

**Master Mind**

* * *

_Ever since I was a child. I looked into the vortex. That's when it chose me. The drumming, the call to war. Can't you hear it? Listen, it's there now. Right now. Tell me you can hear it, Doctor. Tell me._

_It's only you._

* * *

The Master hears the sound of drums.

In his head.

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

Calling him to war.

To fight the whole universe.

Because the drums. never. stop.

And so neither does he.

* * *

The Doctor hears the sound of cries.

In his head.

Pleading, pleading, pleading.

Calling him to help.

To save the whole universe.

Because the cries. never. stop.

And so neither does he.

* * *

_I watched the last three episodes of season three recently and started thinking about how similar the Master and the Doctor are. Two sides of the same coin...and I wondered if the Master heard the sound of drums, what would the Doctor hear?_


	22. Stormed

**Stormed**

The Doctor and Rose stood just inside the door of the TARDIS. Both were completely drenched. Outside, a burst of lightning and thunder briefly covered up the sound of pouring rain.

The Doctor sneezed.

"Well, that got a bit nasty, didn't it." He glanced over at Rose.

She continued to stare straight ahead, a pool of water forming at her feet.

The Doctor forged on. "Still, at least we avoided the poison mud- well, mostly avoided- well, somewhat avoided." He scrunched his back uncomfortably.

Rose turned her head to look at the Doctor. Very deliberately, she took off her sodden jacket and balled it up in her hands.

Then she threw it at his head and stormed out of the engine room.

Spluttering, the Doctor peeled the jacket off his face.

"Next time I'll bring an umbrella, then!"

Thunder rolled.


	23. Different

**Different**

He was always known as different. Eccentric. A troublemaker.

The troublesome Time Lord. It had a nice ring to it.

But all those descriptions were based on a standard. A norm. The "normal" Time Lords.

But now all the normal Time Lords are dead.

And there's just him.

And how can you be different when your measure of comparison has been burned from Time and Space?

He IS the Time Lords.

When there was a whole planet of people to look down on his actions he felt no shame at "interfering"; at defying the expectations of his people.

But the expectations of the dead weigh heavy on the soul.

He doesn't stop interfering. Doesn't stop helping. But sometimes he feels he is drowning beneath who he needs to be and who _they_ were.

Because you cannot win when there is no one left to fight.

* * *

_I'm not sure where this one came from. I blame my night class. Anyways, I've watched a grand total of 0 old school Doctor Who episodes, but from what I hear the Doctor wasn't exactly a typical Time Lord. And so I wondered if he would feel bad once they were all dead, being such a poor representation of what they stood for. _


	24. Drunk Part Two

**Drunk Part Two**

The Doctor stumbled over the threshold to the TARDIS. Catching himself, he straightened up- and found himself face to face with Rose.

"You're drunk!" said Rose, disbelief mingling with amusement.

The Doctor sighed very loudly. "Time Lords," he said, placing a finger on Rose's chest and staring at her with slightly crossed eyes, "do not get drunk."

He stepped around her. "It's quite interesting really. The additional circulatory system used by my extra ticker"-here he pointed to his chest-"keeps the blood flowing incredibly fast. All of which prevents alcohol from overwhelming my brain." The Doctor glanced knowingly over at Rose and tapped the side of his head.

"Still drunk!" she said.

He attempted to wink at her and blinked both eyes instead. Then he fell down into the center of the TARDIS.

"Oiy! What did you do- drink five bottles of Nyetimbers?" Rose asked, going over to help the Doctor up.

"It was three," the Doctor said, holding a single finger in front of his face and staring at it blearily. "And I never dreamed you humans could make something taste so good." He sprang to his feet, knocking Rose over in the process.

"Let's go somewhere!" The Doctor started skipping around the center of the TARDIS.

"I don't think you're fit to drive," said Rose, watching him, "especially given how bad you are at it even when you're not smashed!"

"It's more fun when you're drunk!" the Doctor shouted happily. He bent over a section of the TARDIS. Then he looked up at Rose. "Do you love monkeys?" he asked in a cajoling tone.

"That's it," said Rose, striding over to him, "Give me your key to the TARDIS."

The Doctor gasped. "You wouldn't!" he said.

"The key." Rose held her hand out.

The Doctor looked at her, then around the room, eyes searching for some way out of the situation. He looked back at Rose.

"Run!" he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air and high-stepping it out of the TARDIS.

Rose sighed and walked over to the door.

"You don't have to yell 'Run' out loud!" she called after the Doctor. "No one's in trouble but you!"

* * *

_Nyetimbers is supposedly a pretty famous English winery. I don't live in England and I don't drink- at all- so I had to use my friend Google to even come up with a name for something the Doctor coulud potentially drink. Oh, and the title isn't a mistake. There's a Drunk Part One coming tomorrow. Duh, duh, duh..._


	25. Drunk Part One

**Drunk Part One**

The Doctor stood outside the pub, unnoticed by the people inside. The skies were gloomy and a light drizzle promised heavier rain to come. Inside, people were laughing and clapping. A voice called out, "This round's on Bobby!" The Doctor blinked.

_You had to give those daft humans_ _credit; they did know how to celebrate birthdays. How to take a person and make them feel special. Significant. Even when the universe existed as a vast counterpoint to that idea. _

Rain dripped down the Doctor's face, looking like sweat from a distance. Or tears.

_They didn't celebrate birthdays on Gallifrey, not like humans did. Too many of them, for one thing, and regenerations added a whole new twist to celebrating the day you were born. But they_ were _remembered. Not a_ Birthday_ but still…a _birth day_. And friends and family sent you well wishes, and people reminded you of what a twerp you had been when you were younger, and it was…nice. Happy. Together._

The Doctor leaned back from the window slightly.

_That's what a birth day on Gallifrey really was. A reminder of all the connections you had made and people you had met since you started your journey in the universe. A reminder that you were not alone._

The Doctor looked once more inside the pub. His jaw tightened. Then he turned around and walked away.

He made it three steps before stopping.

Standing there, he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then he pulled from his coat what looked like a small, black wallet. He glanced at it, and then turned around and walked into the pub.

Today was the Doctor's birth day.


	26. Time Lord Cheating

**Time Lord Cheating**

"I can't believe you'd do that!" Rose said in mock disappointment.

She, Micky, and Jackie all shook their heads in disapproval at the Doctor.

"Me? What did I do?" The Doctor attempted a look of wounded innocence.

"Says he's going to take a quick trip to the loo," Mickey said, raising his eyebrows at the Doctor.

"I'll say it was quick- he only just left the room before he was back again!" Jackie gave the Doctor the evil eye.

Rose shook her head again. "Did you really think we wouldn't hear it? I mean you can hear the thing halfway across London!"

This drew a small smile from the Doctor, who attempted to hide it by putting his head down. "Jealous- that's what you are. The lot of you!"

He grabbed the small piece of pie and put it in the correct slot. "I win!"

Rose threw a pillow at his head.

"Fancy using the TARDIS to cheat at Trivial Pursuit!"

* * *

_I would totally use the TARDIS to win at pointless board games. Our family's motto for games is "It's not cheating if you don't get caught!" _


	27. Interfere

**Interfere**

"It is not our place to interfere."

He's heard it a thousand times, in a thousand variations.

The Doctor struggles against the hands holding him back. Stopping him from helping.

"You don't understand. I can save those people!"

_So can you_, he thinks accusingly.

"It is not our place to interfere."

They sit, calm, unaffected. Unaffected by the knowledge that outside, people are dying.

The Doctor keeps fighting against the hands. Even though he knows he will not break free.

"You're condemning those people to death!"

If he can just make them understand- make them see. Surely he can make them see the need, the _rightness_ of action.

But deep inside he knows his efforts are just as useless as his attempts to escape.

"They condemn themselves. It is not a choice we make."

So self-assured. Smug in their superiority and knowledge of rightness.

But the Doctor knows. KNOWS. When you can help, and you don't, you _are_ making a choice. A choice to sacrifice, to destroy.

To kill.

And so the Doctor keeps fighting, kicking, gasping for breath all in a futile struggle to get away, to leave, to help…

Because it is a choice HE has made. To help no matter what. And so he keeps trying.

Because to do otherwise would be to condemn himself.

* * *

_I think the people holding him might be Time Lords. But I'm not sure. _

_Anyways, I watched my first episode of old-school Doctor Who last night. The Ark in Space. It was pretty great! _


	28. Father Christmas Doctor Who

_Warning: You'll want to read Chapter 20: Laundry (if you haven't already) before reading this one or it won't be nearly as funny._

* * *

**Father Christmas Doctor Who**

The Doctor stooped down to look in the chimney, his sonic screwdriver probing the brick walls.

"Are you Father Christmas?"

The voice caused the Doctor to jump, hitting his head on the chimney entrance in the process. Spinning around, his eyes took in a small child standing at the foot of the stairs.

"No, you're, uh, you're dreaming! Go back to sleep," the Doctor whispered, raising his eyebrows hopefully and gesturing up the stairs.

The child didn't move.

The Doctor sighed. "It's never that easy, is it," he said, turning back around. But the strange energy signal from inside the chimney soon had him absorbed once again.

Suddenly the Doctor felt a sharp pain on the back of his arm. Jerking away he hit his head (again!) on the chimney entrance. Rubbing his arm and his head and muttering softly-spoken curses, he turned around and nearly stepped on the child, who was now standing right in front of him.

"I'm not dreaming. You can't feel pinches in your dreams."

The Doctor looked at the child and then shut his eyes, as if hoping some trick of the imagination would make the child disappear. He opened them back up. The child was still there.

"You're supposed to pinch yourself, not somebody else!" The exasperation in the Doctor's voice was apparent despite his hushed tones.

"But that would hurt!"

The Doctor paused, thought about it, and shrugged. "Can't argue with that logic, I suppose." He started to turn back to the chimney.

The child tugged on his coat sleeve.

"Please Father Christmas, I know I'm not supposed to be up, but can't I have just one gift? I have been good this year, really! And look," he said, going to a chair near the fireplace and grabbing the plate on top of it, "I left you something!"

The Doctor took the glass of sherry and gulped it down.

Then he looked down at the child. "I suppose there's no chance of you going back to bed, is there?"

The child shook his head stubbornly.

"No chance," he echoed.

The Doctor gave a small laugh.

"Well, then, let's see what I have." He set his sonic screwdriver on the fireplace mantle and began rummaging around in his pockets. After a short search, his expression grew slightly panicked. He looked at the child. The child looked back. With a slight grimace, the Doctor drew out the only object currently residing in his pockets that could even remotely be considered a gift.

It was the head.

Very tentatively, the Doctor placed it in the outstretched hands of the child. The child looked at it.

"It's brilliant!"

He looked up at the Doctor, face filled with a grin, and then turned and ran up the stairs.

The Doctor watched him go.

"That," he said to himself, "worked out well."

Then he turned back to the blasted chimney and began examining it once again.


	29. Broken

**Broken**

_Where is it, Doctor?_

_Gone._

_How can Gallifrey be gone?_

_It burnt._

_And the Time Lords?_

_Dead._

The Doctor stands in front of the burning pyre.

As he looks at the flames flickering up into the night sky, he tries to feel something. Anything. Anything but this awful numbness spreading through his body.

But the Doctor feels empty. As if he had been poured out onto the floor of the Valiant along with the blood of the Master. His body living but his soul broken. Shattered. And he thinks the flames which are burning the Master might have also cauterized his hearts.

As he stands there, alone, in the dark, his thoughts go back to the time before. When he also watched the Time Lords. As they burned. And how then, too, he had felt as though the overwhelming emptiness from being the only. one. left. would suffocate him, drown him, crush him…

But this time it is worse.

Because the Master had given him hope. Hope that he would not have to spend the rest of his days alone. Hope that there would finally be somebody who _understood_. Hope that, at last, he would have someone with which to share the awful burden of being the last...the only...

And the Doctor cannot complete the thought because his cauterized hearts are threatening to crack. So he turns and walks away. Leaving the ashes of his hope lying in the fire.

He wishes it was that easy to walk away from all his emotions.

But he knows that this emptiness dragging at his soul will not last forever. And his cauterized hearts will eventually heal.

And he will feel again, and his hearts will hope again, because he is the Doctor.

But that will leave him open to being broken once more.

* * *

_Inspired by the episode_ _Last of the Time Lords._


	30. Psych!

**Psych!**

"Aaaahhhh!"

The scream was one of pure, unadultered terror.

The Doctor glanced back.

"Something wrong?" he asked cheerfully.

"You just- we almost- aaaahhhh!" The traveler was practically white from suppressed fear. He appeared to be attempting to curl in on himself.

The Doctor stopped.

He shook his head reproachfully.

"You humans are so tense all the time!" He reached back and put a hand on the traveler's shoulder.

"Relax a little. Deep breaths." The Doctor demonstrated by inhaling and exhaling slowly several times.

It seemed to be working. The traveler slowly got his breathing under control, finally reaching the point where he could speak coherently.

"You're a bloody lunatic!" he screamed, getting out of the cab and slamming the door shut with the shaken force only near death can bring.

The light turned green.

"I'm hurt," said the Doctor, looking affronted.

He pulled away from the man, now throwing up in the gutter.

"Maybe next time you'll get the Psychic Paper to make you something _besides_ a cab driver," Rose said from her seat beside the Doctor.

Despite her light tone, her fingers were clutching the passenger door so tightly they appeared to be welded on.

"Oh, shut it," said the Doctor, "We got here in one piece, didn't we?"

The side mirror chose that moment to fall off.

* * *

_I chose the title 'Psych' for two reasons. First, hopefully you didn't realize they were in a car until the traveler got out. So, psych! Second, Psychic Paper is mentioned in the story- shorten it up and obviously you get 'Psych'. I wrote this in my econ. class today. We were going over a test. I got an 'A'. Hooray!_


	31. Happy

**Happy**

Laughter filled the TARDIS.

And it was nothing special.

Not really.

But it was…it made him feel…

For a brief moment, a brilliant point in time, he forgot how alone he was.

And he forgot all the terrible things he had seen.

And done.

He forgot, in short, that he was the Doctor.

No Time Wars.

No people to save.

No problems.

Just this warm, perfect moment.

And he could feel something bubbling up in his chest, making his throat tight, and he recognized what it was.

The Doctor was happy.


	32. Bored: Riddles

**Bored: Riddles**

The Doctor was bored.

Again.

He and Martha were stuck in the TARDIS waiting out an unusually severe solar storm.

"We're in a time machine-why don't we just travel in time to when the storm doesn't exist?" Martha had asked.

"It's not that simple!" the Doctor had replied testily.

There had been silence in the TARDIS after that.

Currently the Doctor was standing over the controls of the TARDIS, stroking them absent-mindedly. Martha was sitting on the floor, leaning back against a wall.

She was bored too.

So Martha got to her feet and announced brightly, "I know! Let's tell riddles."

The Doctor looked over at her skeptically. "Riddles?"

"Yeah," Martha said, "Riddles. Cause I'm bored out of my skull and sick of watching you pet the TARDIS like it was a dog or something. So we're going to tell riddles."

They looked at each other.

"Okay," the Doctor said finally, sounding as if it went against his better judgment. He turned around so his back rested against the control center and looked expectantly at Martha.

"Right," Martha said, nodding her head, "I'll go first."

She put her head down in thought.

"Okay!" She looked at the Doctor with a sly grin. "Here's one:

Could be solid, could be living.

Could be liquid, could be dead.

Either way it is the same,

Either way you end up fed.

What am I?"

The Doctor's face took on a look Martha had often seen when he was confronted with some new idea or problem. He turned away from her and started pacing around the TARDIS.

"Let's see…'Could be solid'…" he muttered to himself, reaching into his pocket and putting on his glasses.

Martha watched him with interest. "Why did you just put your glasses on?"

"They help me think," the Doctor said, not stopping his pacing.

"But you're not even reading anything!"

"I am in my brain," the Doctor said, apparently quite content with his logic.

"I think there's something else going on in your brain, too," Martha mumbled.

"What was that?" the Doctor asked, not turning around to look at her.

"Nothing!" Martha said.

Then the Doctor spun around towards Martha.

"I've got it! The Hierberne creature on Histotrendoma. Its bodily mass is solid in life but when the natives cook it, it turns into this gelatinous sludge. And…it's edible!" He gave Martha a huge grin.

Martha's mouth opened and closed several times. The Doctor looked at her with anticipation.

"No!" Martha finally managed to get out.

The Doctor's face fell.

"This is an earth riddle. From EARTH," Martha said, gesturing in the shape of a globe with her hands. "How would we even know about some random alien creature?"

This question seemed to pull the Doctor up short. He rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner and looked away from Martha. "You could have always read it in a book," he muttered.

Martha sharply exhaled, shaking her head in frustration. "The answer was a chicken! You know, 'buk buk bukuk' and all that?"

"A chicken!"

Now it was the Doctor's turn to look exasperated. "You mean one of those flappy…things," he said in obvious distaste.

"Yes," Martha said.

The Doctor sniffed. "Too…domestic."

"Fine, Einstein, you come up with a riddle, then!"

Martha sounded as though she was having second thoughts about the whole riddle idea.

"All right," the Doctor said.

He thought for a second. Then he smiled. "Here's a good one:

When you know me then you lose you.

When you know you then you lose me.

Pick your potion:

Space or Motion.

What am I?"

Martha thought for a moment. And then thought again. And then thought some more.

"I haven't a bloody clue!" she said.

The Doctor leaned back in disappointment. "Oh, come on," he said, "It's so simple!"

"Simple to you, maybe," Martha said, frustrated. "What is it?"

"An electron," the Doctor said, with a look of 'can you believe you didn't get it' on his face.

"An electron!" Martha said, laughing in disbelief, "Well, I feel like a bloody stupid fool now."

"I know!" the Doctor said, laughing.

Martha hit him.

"I was being sarcastic," she said. "Your riddle doesn't even make any sense. What does,"-she flung her hands in the air- "_any_ of that have to do with an electron?"

The Doctor (still rubbing his arm where she hit him) looked at her, then sighed.

"You can know the position of an electron, or its momentum. But you can't know both. Because if you measure its position, you change its momentum, and vice-versus. It's simple quantum!" He shrugged.

Martha stared.

"You shouldn't need a degree in bloody physics to answer a riddle!" she shouted.

"Someone's using the word 'bloody' an awful lot lately," the Doctor, shaking his head.

"That's because _someone_ is being driven mad by bloody stupid aliens and their bloody stupid riddles!" Martha said through gritted teeth.

The Doctor looked taken aback.

"I don't think I want to play this game anymore," he said in a slightly hurt tone.

"Fine," Martha said.

"Fine," the Doctor said.

They went back to their respective corners.

* * *

_Yes, I made the riddles up. No, I don't have a degree in Physics. But my twin sister does, so that counts, right?_


	33. Choice

**Choice**

_He's desperately talking to her and his eyes are screaming and she knows what he says is true, but…_

_She thinks back to that time. And that choice._

* * *

It should have been a crowning moment. And it was. There were clusters of people standing on the command deck, sipping drinks and talking. Excited conversations were taking place everywhere, about this strange man called the Doctor and the way he had saved them.

Except he hadn't, really, now that Rose thought about it. They had saved themselves.

But the Doctor had shown them the way.

And now their savior is standing in the shadows, on the outer periphery of the clusters, doing his best to be unnoticed. Unnoticed by everyone.

But not by Rose.

And as she looks at him, at what should be a triumphant time; another rescue, another day saved, another group to add to the list of those who only survive because of the Doctor…

All she can think is that somehow, even among all these people…he looks so alone.

And lost.

And more then that- he looks _distant_ from everybody else, as though he is in a different place entirely…a different time.

And it is then she makes her choice.

Because if he can look like that when all is right in the universe…

Rose does not know if she can ever erase the distance between them. Or empty the loneliness from his eyes.

But she knows she has to try.

* * *

"_I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never gonna leave you."_

* * *

_Inspired by the episode 'Doomsday'._


	34. Married

**Married**

Jackie Tyler bustled around the living room, adjusting pillows and picking up stray objects.

"You might have told me you were coming," she told Rose. "I mean I understand appearances don't matter to _some_ people…" She shot a glare at the Doctor, who was standing beside Rose in the doorway of the room.

He gave her a small wave. "Hello!"

"Mum," Rose said, stepping towards her and pulling the Doctor along, "There's something we need to tell you—"

"And while we're talking about appearances," Jackie went on, her tidying becoming more forceful, "It'd be nice if you made one more often."

"Mum, we really need to—" But there was no cutting off Jackie Tyler when she was in full stream.

"Months go by. Months!" she said, shaking her head. "With not even a word from my daughter! It's not right, I tell you, it's just not-"

"Mum!" The intensity in Rose's voice finally managed to stop her mother's tirade. Jackie stopped and looked at Rose. Rose took a deep breath and glanced at the Doctor.

"We're getting married!" She gave her mother an anxious smile. The Doctor grinned like a loon.

Jackie Tyler froze. Then, as if in slow-motion, she toppled over backwards.

"April Fool's!..." Rose and the Doctor's voices trailed off.

They stood there uncertainly.

Then Rose ran over to where Jackie lay sprawled on the floor.

Watching her, the Doctor crossed his arms and scowled.

"This is why I don't do domestic."

* * *

_I pulled an April Fool's prank on a friend in class today. She had loaned me her Doctor Who DVDs so I told her my mom accidentally returned Season 3 to the library. "We called the library but they said they haven't found it!" I said. "They might have accidentally shipped it to another library by mistake!" Only AFTER class was over did I say, "April fools!" She completely bought it, but was remarkably calm about the whole situation. Gotta love April Fool's Day!_


	35. Beautiful

**Beautiful**

Night fell on the planet. In the stillness that followed, a strange sound filled the sky.

And a blue box appeared on the ground.

A door opened in the side of the box, and a man slipped out. He turned and closed the door behind him quietly, then rested his head against the blue-painted wood.

And just stood there for a time, the sounds of the night washing over him.

Then, slowly, laying his hand gently on the side of the blue box for a moment, the man walked away.

Into the dark.

He walked for quite some time before stopping.

His eyes took in the sight in front of him.

A wind-swept plain. Great hills jutting up in the distance. And spread out below his spot on the cliff, a perfectly calm, perfectly still lake.

The surface of which seemed to reflect all the stars in the universe.

Some burden seemed to disappear from the man.

He smiled, then laughed out loud.

"You're beautiful!" he shouted.

Then softer, "You're beautiful…"

And they were.


	36. Bananas

**Bananas**

The Doctor was lying on his back on the floor of the TARDIS, holding a banana in front of his face.

"I love bananas!" he said, gazing at it with slightly bleary eyes.

Rose chose that moment to walk in.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Rose!" the Doctor exclaimed, lifting his head off the floor to look at her. "Would you like a banana?"

"I don't think so," said Rose.

The Doctor looked shocked. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "But it's the most amazing fruit in the universe," he said, sounding slightly hurt. He opened his eyes wide. "Come to the banana, Rose. You can feel it calling you." He waved the banana at her temptingly.

Jack chose that moment to walk in.

Both Rose and the Doctor turned their heads to look at him.

"Should I leave?" he asked apologetically, pointing his thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

"No!" Rose said. She grabbed Jack and ushered him further into the room.

The Doctor sat up. "Just remember, you asked for this," he told Rose. Then he held the banana out like a talisman towards Rose.

"Jack, Rose doesn't find this banana…_a-peel-ing_." he said.

Jack looked from the Doctor to Rose. Then he favored the Doctor with a grin.

"That's horrible," Jack said, "You two could have _split_ it!"

He looked far too satisfied with himself.

Rose turned at him.

"Traitor!" she said.

"What's she talking about, Doctor?" Jack asked innocently.

"Not a clue," the Doctor answered. He pushed himself off the ground and stood up. "To be honest, I think she's gone a bit _fruity_." He and Jack shook their heads sadly at each other.

"Thanks a _bunch_!" said Rose. Both the Doctor and Jack giggled. Rose realized what she had just said and held her hands up in protest. "No, no, I didn't mean it that way!"

"Sure you didn't," said Jack, exchanging a knowing glance with the Doctor.

"No, it just _slipped_ out," Rose protested, then slapped her forehead with her hand. "No, I mean-"

The Doctor stepped closer to Rose and cut her off. Using both hands he held the banana up in front of her face.

"Don't resist the banana," he said seriously.

Jack chimed in.

"When it comes to bananas I think she's _yellow_." He was on a roll.

"It probably _stems_ from a repressed childhood," the Doctor told Jack matter-of-factly.

"Oh, almost certainly." Jack nodded in agreement.

Rose gathered herself up.

"I think you're both _bananas_!" she said, glaring at them as if daring them to say anything else. Then she stomped out of the room.

Jack and the Doctor watched her leave.

The Doctor shrugged.

"I can think of worse things to be."

He flipped the banana over to Jack.

Jack caught the Doctor's eye.

"How do you feel about…strawberries?"

* * *

_Eight banana puns in one story. My work here is done._

_And now for the love of all that is good and right in the world…REVIEW!!! REVIEW!!! I feel like I'm calling out into a desert wasteland with no response…_

_There. Was that desperate enough for you?_


	37. Drowning

**Drowning**

The rain fell down into the night.

Down on the Doctor, who huddled beside a tree, clutching the trunk as though it was the last remaining port in a sinking world.

The rain almost drowned out the sound of distant screams.

And the Doctor was shivering violently, deep trembles wracking his body. He didn't know if it was from the frigid night air or from the faces that kept searing themselves into the darkness of his mind every time he closed his eyes.

Faces that screamed out _DEAD_ and _FAILED_…

The rain couldn't drown out this kind of scream.

And he felt as if he were drowning.

Drowning beneath the tears of the dead.


	38. Bananas: Behind the Scenes

_This was my first attempt at writing the "Bananas" chapter. I think it gives you a pretty good idea of where my mind is at 7:30 in the morning. _

**

* * *

****Bananas: Behind the Scenes**

Rose, Jack, and the Doctor walked into the TARDIS.

"_Wait," the author said, "This sounds like the beginning of a joke."_

Rose bruised her head, Jack bruised his hands, and the Doctor bruised his ego by falling to the ground.

"_Yep," said the author, "Definitely a joke."_

After this incident they all learned to carry a flashlight when they went out at night.

"_So not only is this a joke, but it has a moral too!" the author said, outraged._

Because those who have a light can walk in darkness.

"_That doesn't even make sense!" the author said._

"_Shut up," said the muse._

_._

"Think carefully. Do you really want to do this? I mean, REALLY."

* * *

_That's exactly what I wrote, exactly how I wrote it, and it cracked me up. Still does. _

_On a completely unrelated note, I watched C-Span for 30 minutes on Sunday. Why? Because they were showing the British House of Commons. _

_And it. was. AWESOME!_

_Man, it was like a cage-fight duel death match! People were yelling after every person spoke, they would completely lay into a person even though that person was in the same room as them. My favorite line: "And I think the Prime Minister should apologize to every British citizen..." It was great! _

_I wish Congress was more like that. More people would watch Congressional sessions for sure! _

_So to all you British people out there: Is it always like that? Or did I just luck into an extremely heated session? (It was open-question time for the Prime Minister, and the topic was the upcoming G20 conference.)_

_Let me know!_


	39. Watchman

**Watchman**

"Leave. Now."

His voice was an impenetrable wall blocking all arguments.

So they left. The cowardly rushing out first, looking relieved; then the rest of the group, some sneaking backward glances at the Doctor, a few having the grace to look ashamed.

Only one stopped at the doorway. Only one turned around and looked the Doctor square in the face.

"It's not fair." And her voice was thick with the injustice of the universe.

"No, it's not," the Doctor said gently, "Now off you go." He mustered up a small smile.

But his eyes were haunted.

So she left. Slowly, reluctantly, but she left.

Leaving the Doctor standing in the middle of the room with his hands thrust in his pockets. He hadn't moved since he first heard the report.

And realized what was coming.

And what he would have to face.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats.

The Doctor standing so still he could have been a statue. With hearts made of stone.

Finally, the statue moved. And the Doctor turned around to face the other end of the room.

Where the Door stood, glowing red.

He could leave now. The TARDIS was in a corner not too far from here. No one would blame him.

The Doctor rubbed his face, trying to wipe out the accusing thoughts. It didn't work.

No one would blame him because they would all be dead.

Without taking his eyes off the Door (now so fiery red it looked as though it might melt into molten slag at any moment) the Doctor reached into the pocket of his pin-striped suit.

And pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

He risked a quick glance at it and gave it a rueful smile. Then he resumed his watch of the Door.

And so the Doctor stood, hands at side (one tightly clenching his sonic screwdriver), face narrowed, jaw clenched, eyes wary.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

For the monsters to come.


	40. Ego

**Ego**

"You don't really think that, do you?" The Doctor turned to Martha in disbelief, his voice slightly pleading.

"'Fraid so," said Martha. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

The Doctor seemed taken aback. He advanced towards Martha, ready to disagree, when Jack chimed in.

"It does seem a bit, well…" he gestured wordlessly in the air. The Doctor turned on him.

"You're a fine one to talk- yours is bigger than mine is!"

"But I don't flaunt it," Jack said sincerely.

"Yeah, the way it flaps about whenever you run…" Martha demonstrated with her hands.

The Doctor looked at the two of them, opened his mouth to say something…and then slumped down in a chair, dejected.

"You really think so?" he asked, still unable to believe what he was hearing.

Martha and Jack looked at each other, then back at the Doctor.

"Yeah."

The Doctor blew out the breath of air he had been holding, and resigned himself to his fate.

"I guess I'll have to find a new overcoat, then."

* * *

_I always felt like it was just a little bit egotistical that the Doctor wore this great big overcoat. I mean, when do you really need something like that? It just seems impractical...especially given how much he likes to run!_


	41. Time Lord

**Time Lord**

He is the lord of Time.

But he is not its master.

He can manipulate Time, sending its pathways twisting and turning in on themselves as he walks the pathways of history.

But he cannot control it.

Time is his friend.

He is not bound by it; he dances with it. Dances above the spinning of the universe.

It allows him to be all places and all times. It allows him the chance to save anyone.

Everyone.

But now, as he stands beside the hospital bed and stares blankly at nothing, he remembers that Time has a dark side.

Because Time has done this to her. Confined her to this bed. Turned her into this…shriveled up distortion. Made her life filled with pain. And finally…

Time has killed her.

And standing here now, he hates Time with all his hearts.

* * *

_Time is definitely a double-edged sword._


	42. What?

**What?**

"Doctor, have you seen my jumper?" Rose called out. She was sitting on a chair in the control room of the TARDIS.

-----------------

"Dump her?" the Doctor said, shocked. He was in the hallway tinkering with a very finicky light. "Why would I want to dump the TARDIS?" He patted the wall. "Don't worry old girl. I would never dump you."

-----------------

"Bless you!" Rose said. "Do you need a tissue?"

-----------------

"I _do_ have an issue with that!" The Doctor turned and faced the direction of the control room. " Sorry Rose," he called, "But the TARDIS comes first."

-----------------

"Who's the worst?" Rose said, getting angry. "It'd better not be me!"

-----------------

"I don't know where your jumper would be!" The Doctor sounded annoyed. "You've got me stumped."

-----------------

"Wait," Rose said, "We're jumping somewhere in the TARDIS? But I have to let my mum know!"

-----------------

The Doctor looked puzzled. "Sure, we can go and watch Sumo wrestling. But I must say- I didn't know your tastes ran that way."

-----------------

Rose heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes, I want to stay- I told you, my mum will kill me if we leave without saying good-bye."

-----------------

"I LOVE dragonflies!" the Doctor said.

There was a very long pause.

Then Rose appeared in front of the Doctor. "That's it," she said, "You're going to have to entertain yourself while you fix that light. I'm done."

"Oh," he said, "but I was having fun!"

Rose looked at the Doctor. The Doctor looked back

Finally, Rose groaned in exasperation and trudged out of the hallway.

The TARDIS was silent for a little bit. Then, echoing through the hallway, a voice.

"What did you say about a nun?"

The Doctor grinned.

* * *

_Shut up. Words are fun._

* * *

For the Word Play Challenged:

Jumper=Dump her

Dump you=Achoo (i.e. Sneezing)

Tissue=Issue

First= Worst

Stumped=Jumped

Mum Know= Sumo

Way=Stay

Good-bye=Dragonfly

Done=Fun=Nun


	43. One Chance

**One Chance**

There is always a choice.

Sometimes it is a choice between good and better.

_Will you travel everywhere, exploring the utter brilliance of the universe, or will you do it with a friend by your side?_

"Can I just say…traveling with you…I love it!"

And sometimes it is a choice between bad and worse.

_Will you destroy every living thing in range, including every last person on earth, or will you allow a slaughtering, murdering race to be unleashed against the universe?_

"Coward or killer?"

But there is always a choice.

And that is why he always allows one chance.

Once chance to live. One chance to walk away in peace. One chance to avoid total destruction.

One chance.

Because he is putting the choice right in front of their faces. Waving it in front of them and practically begging them to take it.

So they cannot justify their actions by saying they had no choice.

Because there is always a choice.


	44. Pain in the Neck

**Pain in the Neck**

The Doctor had a stiff neck.

It felt as though someone had jammed a spike through the side of it. _Any_ movement- to the left or the right, up or down- sent a shivery burst of pain traveling from the right side of his neck down through his shoulder.

So the Doctor had taken to walking through the TARDIS with the upright precision of a drum major, muttering curses whenever he lost the battle to hold his neck straight.

Rose found all this…amusing.

"Rose, pass me the spanner please."

Despite his stiff neck, the Doctor was currently making repairs to the control center of the TARDIS, lying on his back to avoid straining his neck. The alternative was to sit in the TARDIS, doing nothing, and wait until the muscles healed.

The Doctor got bored very easily.

An attempt had been made to have Rose fix the TARDIS, with the Doctor telling her what to do, but that had ended…badly.

Rose got the spanner. If the Doctor had been able to look up, he would have seen her staring at him in a calculating manner. "Hey Doctor," she asked, her tone suspiciously light, "You remember when I tried to help you fix the TARDIS, and you yelled at me and called me a stupid ape?"

This had happened approximately five minutes ago.

"Mm-hm, why?" the Doctor asked, preoccupied with his work.

"Oh, no reason," Rose said airily, before chucking the spanner onto the floor. "Whoops! I'm afraid I've dropped the spanner." She didn't even try to sound convincing.

Her tone finally caused the Doctor to pause in his work. "Well, pick it back up and hand it to me," he said with a touch of irritation in his voice.

Despite his 900 years of experience, the Doctor could be blindingly stupid when it came to understanding women.

Rose gave a deep and pitiful sigh. "Can't, SO sorry," she said, "I'm an ape, and I don't know how."

The air thickened with tension. Then the Doctor laughed as though he couldn't believe this was happening. "Come on, Rose," he said, gritting his teeth. "Pick up the spanner!"

"No," said Rose.

Under normal circumstances the Doctor would have turned his head to look at her, but it hurt too much, so he contented himself with looking at her out of the corner of his eye. It was tough to glare using only your peripheral vision, but the Doctor gave it his best shot.

Rose glared back. She didn't move an inch.

The Doctor reviewed the options available to him. One, he could wait and hope that Rose would take pity on him and pick up the spanner. Reviewing the chain of events that had led to this stare-down, he mentally crossed that option off his list. And scribbled over it. And ripped it out of his mental notebook and threw it away.

After thinking desperately for a few more seconds, the Doctor realized there was only one other option to consider if he wanted to escape this situation with his dignity intact: He could get the spanner himself.

With a small whimper, the Doctor got up off the floor, holding his back as straight as possible and supporting his neck with one hand. Then he walked over to the spanner.

"Piece of cake," the Doctor told Rose jauntily. But his smile was forced and his eyes were popping.

Rose stepped back and made a sweeping motion towards the spanner. "Be my guest!" she said.

The Doctor reached down to grab the spanner. The closer he got the more the imaginary spike seemed to be digging into his neck. He stopped, defeated, his hand still inches away from the spanner.

Without moving his head, the Doctor turned his eyes towards Rose, exasperated. She still wasn't budging.

So he turned back to the spanner. No bloody tool was going to defeat the Doctor!

Moving with cautious slowness, he bent his knees, keeping his neck straight, one hand gripping the back of it in an attempt to prevent the evil spike of doom from making another appearance, and the other stretched down towards the spanner.

Success! He brought the spanner up in his clenched fist.

"Ha! There, you see—easy," the Doctor told Rose. He had to pivot around in order to look her in the face.

She crossed her arms. "It just took you five minutes to pick a stupid spanner up from the floor."

"Well, yeah, but…" The Doctor's voice trailed off. Rose was staring at him.

Very intently.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I called you a stupid ape," he said huffily.

Rose tilted her head. "And…" she said.

Looking at her, the Doctor's face softened.

"…And I need you," he said, the words rushing out.

Rose smiled.

* * *

_Guess who recently had a stiff neck? Me! And it was really bad- the first day there wasn't a single position I could hold that was pain free. And it lasted for a good three days. Not fun at all! So I would probably be inclined to be slightly more sympathetic to the Doctor than Rose was...but only up to a certain point._


	45. Empty

**Empty**

"_Ohh, fascinating. Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for..."_

_(Silence)_

He stood in the empty TARDIS.

And that was how he thought of it right now. How it seemed.

So empty.

Empty of friends; some by their choice, some by his.

Some by no choice at all.

Empty of enemies; some by force, some by cunning.

One by no choice at all.

And as he stood there, quietly, listening to the silent echoes of all that might have been, he thought he should feel some heart-wrenching emotion because of the death of so many possibilities.

But all he felt was a sort of melancholy numbness.

Because he was empty too.

* * *

_Exciting news Who fans! I got Doctor Who Season Four for my birthday! Which means I finally get to watch those episodes! I'm up to "The Poison Sky" and thus far Season Four has been AWESOME! So expect to finally see some chapters with Donna in them in the near future._

_This was inspired by the episode "Partners in Crime."_

_Oh yeah, and it's also another rare actual drabble- 100 words on the dot._


	46. Time Lord Movie Critic

**Time Lord Movie Critic**

It was movie night on the TARDIS.

Every few weeks Rose and the Doctor left whatever new planet they were exploring, headed back to Earth, and parked the TARDIS outside some movie theatre in London. The Doctor had rigged up a power converter to steal the movie projector's signal and he and Rose were able to watch the latest flicks from the comfort of their very own TARDIS.

Complete with popcorn.

Ostentiously it was so that Rose didn't fall too far behind the popular culture of the day. But really, it was a chance for both of them to unwind. Relax. Spend a day NOT getting shot at or chased after or locked up or (almost) killed.

So they watched movies.

"That relationship is never going to last," the Doctor remarked from his position on the beaten-up old couch. He had rescued it from some intergalactic garbage heap specifically for the purposes of movie night.

Rose groaned and slunk deeper on the couch. The Doctor ALWAYS did this. They could never watch a movie without him making constant predictions about the plot of the movie or the fate of certain characters.

"Oh, she never should have said that. She'll be dead in the next half hour!" the Doctor said, apparently delighted at the imminent destruction of the on-screen character.

And he was always RIGHT. Take now, for instance. The character the Doctor was talking about had been on screen for a grand total of five minutes. She'd barely even said anything! And yet Rose was now sure that, as the Doctor predicted, she would be dead very shortly.

"Ah, classic misdirection. Don't worry—they aren't going to catch him. They've got the wrong man." The Doctor grinned at Rose.

The worst part was that she didn't know if he was honestly just that good at predicting movie outcomes, the byproduct of 900 years of experience, or (as she suspected) he _had already watched them. _Had gone to the future and watched each and every movie they were planning to watch, all for the express purpose of driving her NUTS!

Rose looked over at the Doctor, who was now commenting on the possibility that the main character would "do a runner," and threw some popcorn at his head.

It didn't even faze him. He just grabbed the popcorn lying on his shoulder and the bits stuck in his hair and stuffed them in his mouth.

Rose grinned.

She loved movie night.

* * *

_This is based on real life. I was ON FIRE for movie predictions the other night! It was sweet. _


	47. Little Boy

**Little Boy**

The boy stood there, small, still. A tiny island in a sea of motion, people all around him dashing frantically, running and running. Trying to get away from the explosions.

Someone collided with the child. A girl with black hair and fierce eyes. She stopped running and looked at him. "Come on! Move! Run on home- it's not safe here!"

But whether from shock or fear of the blasts, he did not move.

A man came running up, overcoat trailing behind him, glancing back over his shoulder tensely. He ignored the child, eyes seeking out the girl. "Martha! Come on, we've got to get out of here. Now!" He grabbed her and started to drag her in the direction of a small blue box sitting in the distance.

Martha shook free. "Doctor, we can't just leave him standing there. He's gonna get killed." She went to take the little boy's hand.

The Doctor spun Martha around and grabbed her shoulders, his face hard. "Then let the people who caused _this_ save their own." He gestured at the devastation around them. "We need to leave. Now!" And he began double-timing it to the TARDIS, Martha in tow.

But Martha jerked free again. This time, she grabbed the Doctor's arm. "Doctor," she said, eyes tearing, "LOOK at him!"

And something in her voice made him stop, and turn, and look at the boy standing in the mud. Really look.

And something broke behind his eyes.

Maybe he was reminded of another time, and another little boy.

But that little boy he couldn't save.

This one he could.

"Come with us," the Doctor said, sweeping down and scooping the boy up in his arms. Martha's face relaxed slightly. They turned and ran towards the TARDIS, reaching the door a step ahead of the fireball rolling in from the city.

Three survivors.

* * *

_They're just children. They can't help where they come from._

_Oh, that makes a change from last time. That Martha must've done you good._

_Ah, she did, yeah. Yeah, she did._

* * *


	48. Bananas: Suit

**Bananas: Suit**

"Ha! We're here!" The Doctor patted the controls of the TARDIS and gave Rose a big grin. He was practically bouncing off the walls with suppressed anticipation.

She looked at him with a smile, slightly bewildered. "Where is 'here?' I've never seen you this excited!"

"Come with me and find out." The Doctor grabbed her hand and led her over to the doors of the TARDIS. He put his hand out, started to open the door, and then slapped his forehead. "Oh, I almost forgot- there's one more thing we need…"

--------------------------10 minutes later--------------------------

"You have got to be kidding me."

Standing in the wardrobe room of the TARDIS, Rose looked at herself in the mirror.

"What?" the Doctor asked, bewildered at Rose's reaction.

Rose looked at him. "I'm wearing a banana suit!"

It was hard to yell when you were covered in a mountain of yellow, face barely fitting into the hole cut out for that purpose, and giant stem arching over the top of your head, but Rose managed.

"Well, so am I," the Doctor said. He smoothed out his banana suit, posing in front of the mirror. "And looking right handsome in it, too," he added.

Rose whapped the back of his stem.

The Doctor sighed and somewhat clumsily turned to face her. "I told you. We have to wear these." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "The Dolequita people have some very particular notions about what constitutes appropriate clothing attire."

This intrigued Rose. "So that first time you met them- how did they react to you? I mean, since you weren't wearing a banana suit?"

The Doctor waved his hand in a care-free motion. "Oh, once they told me what they wanted I just went back to the TARDIS and got mine." He shrugged.

Rose scoffed. "And you just happened to have a banana suit in the TARDIS?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, looking bemused, "It's standard equipment."

Rose paused, then turned away, hands in the air. "I'm not even surprised."

She and the Doctor left the wardrobe room, wobbling slightly.

Traveling through the hallway, the Doctor shot Rose a sideways glance. "I should warn you," he said, slightly apologetic, but mostly proud, "I'm kinda a big deal in these parts."

Rose rubbed her forehead. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation," she muttered to herself.

The Doctor didn't hear her. "Apparently they don't get many visitors who can recite 999 reasons why bananas are grand." He sounded puzzled.

They reached the TARDIS doors and paused, standing at the threshold of the world of Dolequita.

Rose sighed in exasperation. "I'm a banana- a banana!" She stepped out.

The Doctor shook his head vigorously before following her. "I love this planet!"

* * *

_This idea was requested by_ Sailor-TimeLord_. Got your own idea? Let me know in the review section! Because remember, "We're all basically primevil slime with ideas above its station." _


	49. The Many Faces of the Doctor

**The Many Faces of the Doctor**

Donna exhaled loudly and glared at the Doctor.

"Sometimes you're so…so…"

_Frustrating. Always going along, doing your own thing, sweeping everyone else along in your wake. Spouting dense techno-babble and explaining how I wouldn't understand it rather than explaining what it is. Trying to do things by yourself. Trying to save the whole bloody universe all by yourself._

Unbidden, Donna's mind flashed to an image of the Doctor doing just that, and saving an entire world. Being…

_Brilliant. Always coming up with an idea, a plan. Whether it's for how to save the planet or how to spend a perfect afternoon. Burning like fire, illuminating the dark and spreading light into the shadows. And doing it all with a grin on your face…_

And now Donna was grinning too, grinning and thinking about all the times the Doctor was…

_Whimsical. Being so funny one moment, and so serious the next. Saying "Allons-y" and such…nonsense even when facing imminent death. Knowing the oddest things, the most curious facts, and sharing them at the most random times. Never taking yourself too seriously, because you've seen far too much to fall into that trap._

Donna's face darkened as she remembered, now, the other habit the Doctor had. Of suddenly appearing so…

_Sad. Tired and sad. And withdrawn. As though you're suddenly in your own separate universe. And it's in those moments, more than anytime else, that I realize...you are old. So, so old. Old and haunted by the memories of a thousand years._

But now Donna's chin turned up, because no matter what the situation, there was always one constant, one anchor, one solid point in the stormy sea that was the Doctor.

No matter what, the Doctor was always...

"So…good."

* * *

_I wrote this at the state capitol while presenting a research poster on the USDA Fresh Fruits and Vegetables Program. Pretty cool event. Of course, any event where you get to skip school for two days, stay in a hotel overnight, and pretty much hang out at the state capitol is pretty cool. I just got back from that, let's see...half an hour ago. Don't say I'm not dedicated!_

_I don't really like the title for this chapter. _


	50. Drunk: Raxacoricofallapatorius

**Drunk: Raxacoricofallapatorius**

"Where have you been? You were supposed to be back hours ago!"

Rose got up from where she had been keeping vigil on the TARDIS, some of the worry of the last hour leaking into her voice.

The Doctor waltzed over the threshold of the TARDIS and went up to her, taking her head in his hands and staring at her face. "Rose!" he exclaimed. He peered at her closer. "Your eyes look like butterflies."

Rose's butterfly eyes narrowed. She removed the Doctor's hands from her face and took a step back. Cheerfully oblivious to her disgust, the Doctor headed past Rose toward the center of the TARDIS. He reached out for the time vortex controls before staggering slightly, teetering, and falling flat on his back.

"You're drunk," Rose said, somewhat pointlessly.

"Drunk on starlight!" the Doctor called out to the ceiling happily.

Rose threw her hands up in the air and turned away. After a few steps, she looked back at the Doctor, who now appeared to be making a snow angel on the floor of the TARDIS.

"_I _could use a drink right now," Rose muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Rose!" The Doctor's voice cut through her thoughts. "Rose- I made up a song! Would you like to hear it!"

"No!" Rose said, turning to him. "You cannot imagine how much I don't want to--"

But the Doctor paid not the slightest bit of attention to her. His voice boomed out in the TARDIS.

"Raxacoricofallapatorius

It shines like the sun and its land is so glorious

But I must admit- its folks are notorious

They plan evil plots and are often victorious

And that is why I won't be the sorriest

To see the end…

OF Raxacoricofallapatorius."

He began laughing, lying on his back.

Rose went and stood over the Doctor. She looked down at him with a rueful smile. "Actually…that was pretty good." She shook her head. "Makes me wonder what you'd come up with if you weren't drunk."

The Doctor looked at her with unfocused eyes and grinned.

Rose patted him on the cheek. "I'm not helping you up, you know." She walked away.

The Doctor started singing another round.

* * *

_That's an actual song that I made up, but obviously there's no way to transmit the melody into words. Oh well..._

_My 50th chapter! Thanks to all of you who've read the last forty-nine: you are the endorphins to my writing brain. _

_Here's to fifty more!_


	51. Love Story

**Love Story**

Long, long ago…the Doctor fell in love.

Hopelessly. Head over heels. Completely. Forever and ever.

In love.

He fell in love with the Universe. Every last inch.

Every last beautiful, awesome, terrible, scary inch.

Because when you love somebody, you love them completely.

Scars and all.

But the Doctor tries desperately to fix all the wrongs in his Universe. All its hurts. All its flaws.

To make it perfect.

Because sometimes, the Universe crushes his hearts. Leaves him with a throbbing, aching wound that makes him want to curl in on himself. Has him wondering how it is possible to go on living when you hurt. so. much.

But sometimes…

Sometimes the Universe does something so wonderful, so brilliant…it takes his breath away. Makes a bubble of joy well up and fill his hearts until he feels as though he will burst with the delight of it all. As though it is impossible for one person to be this happy.

And that's the Universe he fell in love with.


	52. Plumbing Plumbs

**Plumbing...Plumbs**

A man lay on the floor, white froth dripping from his mouth. Panicked dinner guests dashed about the room, issuing pointless exclamations of dismay. Rain pounded against the windows, adding to the chaos of the night.

And the door flew open, a man sweeping into the house, grinning with anticipation.

"I'm the Doctor," he announced, "And I'm here to help."

A thunderclap punctuated this declaration.

All around the room heads turned, bedlam turning into silence, everyone staring at the strange man.

Donna came bursting into the room. She skidded to a halt before the gaze of a dozen eyes.

"Uh…Hullo." Donna gave a small wave before heading over to the Doctor. Still aware of the eyes, she harshly whispered to him out of the side of her mouth, "If you're gonna go busting into random doorways, the least you could do is TELL ME!"

But the Doctor's attention was riveted by the dead person. He put a hand out to cut off Donna's tirade and stalked over to the comatose victim. A person was kneeling beside him, hand on his neck. He looked up at the Doctor's approach. "I'm afraid there's not much left for you to do, doctor- he's dead." He stood up and gestured somewhat helplessly. "I'd only just met him."

The Doctor crouched down alongside the body and put on his glasses. Examining the head he sniffed at the flecks of foam lining the man's mouth. "Hmm…that shouldn't be there…" he mumbled, his eyes lighting up.

A rather heavy-set man pushed his way through the crowd of people watching the Doctor. "Excuse me there, good sir, but I rather think this is a matter for the bobbies now. That man was murdered!" He puffed up importantly at this declaration.

The Doctor stood up and flashed the psychic paper. "Detective Inspector Bishop- Scotland Yard."

Behind him, Donna cleared her throat rather loudly.

The Doctor half-turned back towards her. "Ah yes, and this is my…um…associate." He rubbed his upper lip and turned back to the man expectantly.

"Hang on," someone called out from the crowd, "You're a doctor and a detective?"

"That's right," said the Doctor, spinning to meet the new voice. He dipped his head to the side. "Actually, I'm double-certified in criminology and law. Able to catch the bad guys and put them away, ha ha!"

His joke was met with stony silence. Behind him, Donna let out a derisive laugh.

"Okay," the Doctor said, raising his eyebrows. He switched tactics. "Can anyone tell me why you believe this man was murdered?" He put his hands behind his back authoritatively.

The heavy-set man clapped a hand down on the Doctor's shoulder. Donna snickered. The Doctor looked at the hand as though it was a dead fish.

But the man's enthusiasm could not be dampened. "Someone ran into the party," he said, gesturing excitedly, "Just bloomin barged in, and dragged poor Harry there into the back room. Was gone before we could even blink. Next thing you know, poor Harry comes staggering out, coughing up a storm, and drops to the floor…dead." He said the word 'dead' with some thrill.

The Doctor started heading towards the back room.

"Wait!" An old woman came running up. She stepped in front of the Doctor. Her head came up to his stomach. "You can't go in there- we've had a plumber in and he said no one was to go in there." The Doctor stepped sideways. She shadowed his move. "The pipes are leaking gas or something. No one's to go in there!" Again the Doctor tried to move around her, again she blocked him. "The plumber's coming in tomorrow…YOU WILL WAIT UNTIL THEN." She rose to her full five feet and pushed a finger in the Doctor's chest.

He stepped back, slightly dazed. Then his face brightened. "Funny you should mention it, but I just happen to plumb…plumbs. In my spare time." The Doctor scratched the back of his head.

Everyone looked at him.

Donna rolled her eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The door slammed shut behind the Doctor and Donna. A gust of wind pelted them with rain.

The Doctor looked slightly shocked.

"Someone got kicked out of a party," Donna said in a sing-song voice. She jabbed the Doctor in the arm. "Next time let me be something! We might have gotten away with it."

The Doctor grimaced and looked at her. "Bit much, huh?"

Donna held her thumb and pointer finger up. "Just a bit, yeah."

With a sigh, the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking away from the house. "Fine," he called over his shoulder, "You can be the plumber next time."

Donna choked slightly and ran after him. "Not on your life, Spaceman. Next time I'm the detective!"

* * *

_I'm just waiting for a Doctor Who episode where someone questions the authority of the Doctor's psychic paper. You know it's gotta happen sometime!_


	53. Star Gazing

**Star Gazing**

Two friends, lying on a gently sloping hill, watching the stars.

The light casting a pale glow on everything, washing away the ugliness, the dirtiness, the darkness.

Millions and millions of possibilities unfurling in the glorious night sky.

She turned her head. "Do you ever get tired of looking at the stars?"

The Doctor drew a breath and turned his gaze upwards.

"Never."

And as if saying the word had destroyed some doubt harboring deep within his soul, he sighed to himself and smiled. "Never."


	54. Jack!

**Jack!**

The Doctor unlocked the door to the TARDIS, letting in Jack and Rose.

"That," Jack was announcing to Rose, "is why you should always pack an extra shirt." He winked. Rose put her hands over her mouth and giggled. The Doctor followed in behind them, throwing his overcoat on the railing and walking over to the center console.

"So, where are we headed next?" Jack asked, turning to the Doctor and nudging Rose.

"Woonoid," the Doctor said, his attention focused on the TARDIS controls.

Jack's face froze in astonishment for a second. Then he grinned widely.

"Oh, ho, ho- this is more like it." Jack started unbuttoning his shirt. "Normally your choice of planets is, how do I put this delicately, BORING, but this is—"

"Oh. My. Gosh." Rose stormed away from Jack, hands in the air.

The Doctor casually glanced up before going back to work on the TARDIS controls.

Then his mind engaged. He looked back up. "Jack."

Jack was too engrossed in stripping to hear him.

"Jack!"

Still nothing.

"JACK!" the Doctor yelled.

Jack looked at him, hands on hips. "What?"

The Doctor rubbed his forehead and said plaintively, "It's _before_ the nudist colony was established."

"Oh."

"Put-put your clothes back on. Now." The Doctor risked a glimpse through his hand. "Oh! Right now. Right- right now." Shuddering, he turned back to the controls, bending over them with _great_ concentration.

After Jack had finished putting his pants back on, and was working on his shirt, Rose walked past him to join the Doctor.

"Prat," she said.

----------------------------------------------------------5 hours later----------------------------------------------------------

The Doctor unlocked the door to the TARDIS, letting in an unusually quiet Jack and Rose. He was shaking his head, stunned. "Unbelievable."

"What?" Jack said, a little too loudly.

The Doctor followed them into the TARDIS, pointing his finger at Jack. "You-you-you," he spluttered, looking at Jack, dumfounded. "I can't believe you did that!"

"It was going to happen sooner or later!" Jack protested. He shrugged and said in a small voice, "I just made it happen sooner."

Rose started laughing. The Doctor turned on her. "This is not funny, Rose."

She kept laughing, Jack joining in.

The Doctor spun away, hands in the air. "I'm surrounded by idiots."

And still shaking his head, the Doctor sent the TARDIS into the time vortex, the blue box disappearing as the newly founded members of the Harkness Nudist Colony watched it go.

* * *

_The credit for this amazing story idea goes to_ Mini Librarian_. Writing this made me laugh really hard._


	55. Midnight

**Midnight**

_Now, I'm all for education, but in this case…maybe not. Let's just…move back._

The Doctor was uneasy. In a way he didn't understand. He had faced down new life forms before, experiencing the misunderstandings that inevitably result from first contact.

But this _thing_- whatever it was- was bad. He could feel it in the depth of his Time Lord bones. This was going to go bad. And he was stuck here, without the TARDIS, without his tools, without even a friend…

All he had left was his voice.

_This little bunch of human, what d'you amount to? A murderer? Cos this is where you decide.  
__You decide who you are. Could you actually murder her? Any of you? Really? Or are you better than that?_

But his voice was okay, because he used words. Words instead of guns. Words could be just as powerful, just as destructive. So he used his words to cut through the panic and the terror that were smothering his fellow travelers, squeezing them to the bone, turning them ugly.

When they looked at each other, slightly ashamed, he thought he had won.

And then the Stewardess spoke.

_I would._

And his hearts sank into a deep, deep pit.

And his uneasiness crept closer to fear.

But he kept trying to get through to them, frantically now, his back against a wall. His voice was his weapon. He knew it. He'd commanded armies with it, sent enemies running with a single word. If he just…kept…talking…

And then…

_Doctor, it's you. She's only copying you. _

_Why me? Why are you doing this?...Sky, stop it. I said stop it. Just stop it!!_

Fear blossomed into full blown terror.

A thousand years of instincts screaming what would happen next.

All he had left was his voice...

And now the creature was stealing it away.

_She's got his voice..._

* * *

_*Shudders*_

_Can I just say, "Midnight" was an absolutely brilliant episode. I mean, just...wow. Every time I've watched it so far, it seems to take about 20 minutes. It's just that good. And has the Doctor ever been that vulnerable before? I take my hat off to you, Russell T. Davies. _


	56. Knock Knock

**Knock Knock**

"Knock Knock*

The sound echoed through the TARDIS.

"What the--?" The Doctor straightened up and looked at the door. When no further sound occurred, he walked over and opened it up cautiously.

Peering into the alley, he looked for the source of the noise.

Nothing.

Puzzled, he glanced down.

"Oh my." The Doctor crouched on his heels. Taking out his sonic screwdriver, he began probing the object that had been left on the TARDIS doorstep.

"What is it?" Rose asked, walking up behind the Doctor and looking over his shoulder curiously.

"Rose, stay back." The Doctor put out an arm to block her from coming any closer. His eyes narrowed. "It could be a weapon- maybe a bomb."

Rose laughed. Ignoring the Doctor's protest, she leaned over and picked the object up. "A bomb with flowers in it?" She picked out a daisy and twirled it in her fingers. The Doctor stared at her as if she had lost her mind. She gave him a pitying look. "This is a May Day basket!"

The Doctor's face didn't change expression.

"You know, May Day?" Rose said, waving the basket in front of his face. "You leave a basket at people's doors and then run away?"

The Doctor's eyebrows wrinkled. "So…it's illegal?"

"No!" said Rose. She shrugged. "It's just…fun."

The Doctor watched her suspiciously, gears turning in his head. A glint appeared in his eyes. "So this, 'May Day'," he asked Rose, trying to appear off-handed. "It involves…running?"

Rose nodded, a smile creeping on her face.

The Doctor spun away, one hand combing through his hair excitedly. He turned back to Rose.

"Let's do it!"

* * *

_The Doctor would be the KING of May Day. _

_Do they even do May Day baskets in Britain? I don't know. But if they don't, just pretend the TARDIS landed in America for this one._

_Happy May Day!_


	57. Eternity

**Eternity**

Nothing lasts forever. Everything has its time. Everything ends.

But human hearts are made for eternity.

Some find eternity in God, their universe opened. Others turn away, for as many reasons as there are stars in the sky.

And a few find the Doctor, grasping at the closest to eternal they can find.

But for all his years…even the Doctor longs for eternity.

Because even Time Lords must come to an end.

Which leaves Humans and Time Lords standing together.

Looking up into the night sky.

Gazing at forever.

And feeling the ache of hearts that want to be free.

* * *

_A special thanks to _thedarkpoet _for this suggestion. It kind of took on a life of its own, but I'm happy with it._

_Another actual drabble. I'm not sure why that makes me feel so pleased, but it does._


	58. FRUIT WARS

**FRUIT WARS**

The Doctor dashed into the TARDIS, slamming the door behind him. He slumped down against the wood, spent, breathing heavily. "It's worse than we thought! " the Doctor gasped. "Rose…" He flopped his hand toward the floor beside him.

Rose quickly went over and sat down next to the Doctor, looking at him expectantly.

"Rose," the Doctor said, grabbing her shirt and pulling her face close, "Whatever you do, DON'T go out there." He let go of her and sank back, exhausted.

Rose stood up and opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it. Looking around the TARDIS incredulously, she finally looked back at the Doctor. "Let me see if I've got this straight," she said cautiously.

The Doctor straightened up from his slumped position, his face suggesting he wondered why Rose wasn't curled in a ball of dread right now.

Rose let out an involuntary laugh. At the Doctor's look she attempted a serious face. "So out there," she said, pointing at the door, "We have the Dolequari people, who wear banana suits and eat bananas." The Doctor nodded. "And they're fighting with the Pyrus people, who wear pear suits and eat pears."

"Yes!" the Doctor said, looking anxiously at Rose.

She eyed him warily. "That's it."

"Huuuhhh!" The Doctor inhaled in horror.

Rose put her hands up. "Oh, come on Doctor, they're just throwing rotten fruit at each other!"

The Doctor stood up, outraged. "I'll have you know I almost got hit in the mouth with a pear out there. A PEAR!" He seemed close to sobbing. "That gritty…_thing_…in my mouth."

She looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "It's a PEAR," she said slowly. "Not a poison dart, or a gun, or…whatever. It's not gonna kill you!"

"It might," the Doctor muttered, looking at the floor.

With a frustrated groan, Rose stomped out of the console room. A few minutes later she stomped back, carrying a bag. "You stay HERE," she said, pointing to the Doctor. Then she left the TARDIS, slamming the door behind her.

The Doctor stayed.

Quite a bit later, Rose returned, looking proud but slightly tense. The bag was empty. "Okay, we can go now," she told the Doctor, trying to sound casual.

He got up from his chair, suspicion forming itself on his face. "What about the Dolequaris?"

"They've stopped fighting now," Rose said, avoiding the Doctor's gaze. She stepped past him.

With a slight backwards glance at Rose, the Doctor went over to the TARDIS door, opened it up and looked out. Then he turned round to face Rose, speechless.

She was standing warily in the back of the console room. "What?" she said defensively.

The Doctor shook his head as if to clear it. "But…but that's impossible!" He pointed at the door behind him. "People have been trying to get those two groups to stop fighting for ages!" His expression changed. "What was in that bag, Rose?" He stepped towards her. She stepped back. "Rose," the Doctor said warningly, holding out his hand. "Give it."

With a heavy sigh she threw the bag at him then turned away and crossed her arms. He brought the bag towards his face and sniffed at it. Then he looked up, his face unreadable. "You gave them…_apples_."

Rose turned to him, the worry of not knowing what the Doctor would say spilling out. "Yeah, I gave them apples. I _like_ apples." She threw her hands in the air. "There, I said it. I. LIKE. APPLES!"

The echoes of her voice rang out in the TARDIS.

Cat out of the bag, Rose stared at the Doctor nervously. He stalked over to her. Leaning forward until their faces were inches apart, he finally spoke.

"I like apples too."

Silence.

Then Rose looked up, surprised. "Really?"

The Doctor grinned. "Yep." He dashed over to the central console and began flipping various start-up levers. "Not as good as bananas, but then, really, what is?"

Gaping slightly, Rose went over to join him.

"But what I like the most," the Doctor went on, "is friends who can think for themselves." He didn't look at Rose, concentrating intently on the console, but Rose knew who he was talking about. She smiled.

"Allonse-y!" the Doctor shouted, and the TARDIS went spinning into the time vortex.

* * *

_The credit for this amazing idea goes to _Time Lady 802379_. My readers are all geniuses, I swear. (Genii?) _

_If you want to read _Chapter 48- Bananas: Suit_, it sets up a bit of back story for this chapter. But I'm happy to report it's completely unecessary._

_And one final note: can anyone guess where the names of the two tribes came from? (and the title of the chapter, too, I guess, but that one's a little more obvious...)_


	59. Clockwork Man

**Clockwork Man**

* * *

_What's happened to them?_

_They've stopped. They have no purpose now._

* * *

The clockwork droids hang motionless.

Separated from their ship, prevented from completing their mission, they no longer have any reason to run.

The Doctor wonders if he has a reason to run any longer either.

Because _his_ mission in life is gone. Vanished 3000 years into the future.

So he stands there, gazing up at the brick wall that has blocked off all of history from him.

His clock has wound down. Wound down to a single point in time.

Trapped on the slow path.

What is he going to do now?

* * *

Girl in the Fireplace _is probably my favorite episode of Doctor Who (although _Midnight _is slowly making up ground). When I was watching it for the umpteenth time I was struck by how the Doctor's words to Reinette, after he's stopped the droids, could really have a double-meaning, applying equally well to him. This drabble was the result of that thought._


	60. Airlock

**Airlock**

Donna sat in the console room of the TARDIS, listening to the music that blasted through the room. Her head was bobbing along to the tune as she bent over her magazine.

The Doctor staggered in, hands over ears. "Make…it…stop!" he yelled over the music.

Donna looked up. "If you don't like it, there are plenty of other rooms in the TARDIS," she said testily.

The Doctor threw himself at the center console. "I can't go to another room!" he said, searching the controls frantically. "It's everywhere on the ship!" His voice was agonized.

Donna stood up and peered over his shoulder, watching with interest as the Doctor maneuvered a series of instruments. "You tried that one already," she said, pointing helpfully.

"This doesn't make sense," the Doctor said, staring in dismay. "Every speaker in the ship should be turned off by now!" He bent underneath the console and started fiddling with some more controls.

Bored, Donna walked back to her seat. "I might have hit something earlier," she said offhandedly, flipping through the magazine until she found the page she had been reading.

The Doctor straightened up and hit his head on the edge of the console. "Ow!...You did what?"

Donna set her magazine down and let out a hefty sigh. "I SAID, I might have given those controls a BIG WHACK earlier, because the music wasn't LOUD ENOUGH TO DROWN OUT BLEEDIN' IDIOTS." She picked her magazine up again. The music blared on.

The Doctor stood there. "Well," he said with eerie calmness, "I'll just throw myself out the airlock, then."

He left the room.


	61. Sometimes

**Sometimes**

Sometimes he thinks of the dead  
So, so many dead  
Every face staring at him from the dark of his mind

Sometimes the Doctor wishes he could forget

Sometimes he thinks of his friends  
Scattered through the ages  
Scattered everywhere but with him

Sometimes the Doctor wishes he could get them back

Sometimes he thinks of his enemies  
All of them, dead  
So much loss, so much waste

Sometimes the Doctor wishes he could have made them listen

Sometimes he thinks of how lonely he is  
A gnawing ache of emptiness where his hearts should be  
Everything ends

Sometimes the Doctor wishes he could find one thing that lasts

Sometimes he thinks of the Time War  
Time locked for all eternity  
The multitude of dead resting

Sometimes the Doctor wishes he could join them

Sometimes he thinks…  
Sometimes the Doctor wishes…

Sometimes

* * *

_My first attempt at pseudo, non-rhyming poetry. So of course it has to be sad. _

_Also, you may have noticed that I changed the summary for this story. I'm experimenting with doing a new summary for each chapter. Feedback would be appreciated on that, as I'm not sure whether it "works" or not. What do you think?_


	62. TARDIS Trouble

**TARDIS Trouble**

On the planet's surface, an old blue police box gradually flashed into existence.

"Hmm…that's odd." The Doctor stood inside the TARDIS, eying the central console with confusion.

Rose walked over and stood beside him. "What's odd?" she asked curiously.

The Doctor glanced over at her. "The TARDIS," he said, looking puzzled, and gestured at the Time Column. "She dematerialized way too slowly." He bent down and began stroking the side of the console. "Are you feeling alright, old girl?" he crooned.

Rose watched him for a moment, then announced, "I know what the problem is."

The Doctor looked at her. "Really?" he asked doubtfully.

Rose sauntered around the TARDIS console, ending up back in front of the Doctor. She hooked her thumbs in her pockets and nodded in the direction of the console. Using a cockney accent, she addressed the Doctor. "What you've got here, sir, is a tardy TARDIS."

Then she cracked up laughing.

The Doctor groaned. "Oh, that was…that was really awful."

Rose looked satisfied. "I try."


	63. Alone

**Alone**

_Rose: What, you're on your own?_

_Doctor: Who else is there?_

He has always had nightmares. Everybody has nightmares. Falling off a cliff, being chased by monsters, running running running…

But ever since…he became the last, they have gotten worst. Have caused him to jolt awake, hearts pounding so hard it seems they will jump from his chest. Have caused him to sleep far, far away from his companions, so they will not hear his screams.

And always in his nightmares, always…he is alone.

The dark is never so scary as when you're by yourself.

_I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords._

He used to pity the other races. Such short lives!

Oh, some of them were brilliant, but brilliant like a spark of light, bursting into the dark and then…gone. So many things to do, so many places to see, and such a short time to explore the vast adventure that was the universe. It was a wonder they managed to get anything done at all.

He doesn't pity them anymore.

_In the end, you just get tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of losing everyone that matters to you. Tired of watching everything turn to dust. If you live long enough, the only certainty left is that you end up alone._

There are days when he wakes up after his nightmares and just lies there, not sure how he will get out of bed. Not sure he wants to get out of bed. Days when he stops seeing his friends as people and starts seeing them as walking dead. Days when he feels like the last survivor, standing in the midst of desolate ruins.

Days when he feels shattered.

Death surrounds him. Everywhere. And no matter how hard he runs away he can never get away. Like a prisoner, attempting escape again and again…a thousand tries, all equally as futile as the last. Until he no longer has any hope of success, is simply going through the motions, trying, trying, trying, because to stop trying leads to madness…

_Wilf: What about you, now? Who've you got? I mean, all those friends of yours…_

_Doctor: They've all got someone else._

Walking in the deep, deep dark. Frightfully, hopelessly, blindly. Not knowing if his feet will touch bottom when he takes his next step.

But then these little blips of light come along, every once in awhile, and they make his path bright.

Make his day bright.

Make him bright.

But then, those little blips of light, they vanish. Like a spark.

They leave.

They always leave.

And he is stuck in the nightmare again.

_I'm fine._

* * *

_I really like how this turned out. I started with the goal of using one quote from each of the four seasons of_ New Who _and went from there._

_In other news, yesterday completely smashed my previous record of_ Visitors _and_ Hits _to my stories. I had 164 visitors and over 800 hits. In one day! So a big, big, big thank you to everyone who read any of my stories yesterday. (Or any day, really.) You guys are the little blips of light in my life._

_Reading what I just wrote, it sounds really sappy. But who cares!_


	64. AA Milne was an Alien?

**A.A. Milne was an Alien?!**

The Doctor was in the library, sprawled in a chair, with his legs up and crossed on a nearby table, heavily immersed in a book.

Martha smiled. With the Doctor, you never knew what type of book he would be reading. Advanced theories of time and space, exotic alien exposes, biographies…

He loved biographies.

She snuck up beside him and craned her neck, looking for the page title. There it was…

Martha choked.

"Ah, Martha!" The Doctor looked up and greeted her with a smile. Martha managed to cough and splutter in return. "Had a good night's sleep?"

Martha, bent over with her hands on her knees, finally managed to get her breath back. She pointed at the book. "You're reading _Winnie the Pooh_?"

"Mm-hmm," the Doctor murmured, and went back to his book.

Martha looked around the library suspiciously. Then she looked back at the Doctor and asked again, incredulous, "_You're_ reading Winnie the Pooh?"

The Doctor glanced back up at her. "Don't look so surprised. A.A. Milne is a very popular alien author."

Martha just managed to avoid choking again. "A.A. Milne was an alien?!" She was aware that her mouth was gaping open.

The Doctor sighed and closed his book (very tenderly Martha noticed). He swung his feet off the table and sat up straight, giving her his full attention. "Anthropologist, actually. These stories-" he gestured with the book in his hand- "were his attempts to formalize human personalities. It was quite applauded in intellectual circles." He looked down at the book with a nostalgic smile.

Beginning to get a handle on the information, Martha jumped in. "Hold on, then—"

The Doctor cut her off, warming to the subject. "Take Pooh for example. Classic human. Not too bright and always thinking with his stomach. Or Piglet, afraid of his own shadow." He shook his head and chuckled. "That Milne—genius!"

This jolted Martha out of her shock. "So, which character am I?" There was a sharp edge behind her light tone.

"Umm…" The Doctor suddenly seemed to remember he was _talking_ to a human. "You are…Owl."

"Uh-huh," Martha said skeptically. "And why's that?"

He paused for a moment, thrown, but then recovered valiantly. "Because you're very smart." He threw her a cheeky grin.

"Riiiight," Martha said, giving the Doctor a stern glance. But, looking at the book, she smiled, patting the Doctor on the head before leaving the room.

"Silly old Time Lord."

* * *

_I love Winnie the Pooh. A.A. Milne_ was _a genius. And I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried watching "Pooh's Grand Adventure."_


	65. Fiercely

**Fiercely**

* * *

_Though my soul may set in darkness it will rise in perfect light  
I have loved the stars too fiercely to be fearful of the night_

* * *

She watches the Doctor, and he's like a child playing with fire. He approaches it carefully, knows it is dangerous, knows that every encounter brings the potential to get burned, but he's so utterly captivated by the flickering, dancing flames…

He can't keep away.

So he goes back again and again and again, and sometimes, when his hands get blistered from the heat she thinks, _Now he'll stay away_.

But he keeps coming back for more.

She asked him once, "How can you be fascinated by something like _that_?"

"But don't you see?" he replied. "They're brilliant!"

And that's when she knew. Knew why he kept coming back.

He's fallen so hard for the Universe that everything in it..._everything..._ he sees through his own special glasses.

And the lenses are made with glowing stars.

She wonders, sometimes, if that's what has saved him. Has kept him going all these long years.

Because he still loves playing with the flickering, dancing flames.

Because he can still look at the monsters and find them brilliant.

* * *

_The lines in the beginning are from a poem called "_The Old Astronomer to his Pupil_" by_ Sarah Williams_. I thought they perfectly captured the way the Doctor views the monsters in the universe. Like in "Tooth and Claw," where he's so fascinated by the Werewolf even though he knows it could kill every last one of them. _


	66. Mob

**Mob**

The TARDIS door flew open.

The Doctor sprang through desperately, slamming the door shut behind him. He fell back against it with a sigh of relief, his clothing tattered and his hair sticking every which way.

Rose stared at him in dismay. "What happened? I thought you were just going outside to check where we were!"

The Doctor drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. He was still trembling slightly. "We may or may not have just landed in the middle of a Storgian mob," he said carefully.

"Oh." Rose looked at the Doctor with greater interest. "Which planet?" she asked.

"Which planet?" the Doctor mimicked, snapping back at her. He rubbed his face and then picked up one of the ripped pieces of clothing hanging from his shoulder. He stared at it, horrified and awe-struck at the same time. "You want me to go back out and ask?" His voice was becoming rather high.

"Sorry," Rose said quickly. She scuffed her shoes on the floor, then looked back at the Doctor. "Is it true what they say about—"

"Yep," the Doctor said quickly.

He didn't say anything else.

* * *

_What the heck is a Storgian mob? Search me if I know. Thanks to my communications class, however, I do know that the word "Storge" means a love of companionship._

_Make of that what you will._


	67. Friends

**Friends**

Don't you know? The Doctor has friends everywhere.

In so many places, scattered across the universe.

From so many times, scattered across history.

Everywhere that has felt his touch.

He is like a black hole, his personality warping everything around him, drawing everything in towards him.

He has friends who are willing to die for him.

Willing to kill for him.

Willing to love him.

Willing to do anything for him.

He has changed so many people, and saved so many lives, and earned so much gratitude.

He has friends everywhere.

The Doctor is the loneliest man in the universe.


	68. Ball Room

**Ball Room**

Rose/Martha/Donna crept around the corner.

Every time she/she/she and the Doctor were in the TARDIS for an extended period of time, she/she/she noticed he would mysteriously disappear for a bit. Never more then an hour, but whenever Rose/Martha/Donna asked, "Where you been?" he always shrugged it off. "Nowhere," he'd say, and then quickly change the subject.

Rose/Martha/Donna could smell rat a mile off.

So this time, with the TARDIS docked and waiting for the completion of a routine scan of its hardware, Rose/Martha/Donna had geared up and made ready to follow the Doctor.

Clothes blending in with the TARDIS décor? Check. Flashlight? Check. Emergency pacifying banana? Check.

Better safe than sorry when it came to the Doctor.

By now, Rose/Martha/Donna had been following the Doctor for several minutes. She/she/she cautiously peered around yet another corner, and just managed to catch a glimpse of the Doctor disappearing through the doorway. Rose/Martha/Donna grinned. At last! Now she/she/she would finally find out what the Doctor was up to.

Rose/Martha/Donna walked cautiously over to the doorway, half-expecting the Doctor to suddenly jump out and yell, "Got you!" But the hallway remained empty. She/she/she peered around the doorway…and…

"I knew it!" Rose/Martha/Donna gasped.

The Doctor stood in the middle of a large room. And all around him…

All around him were balls. Hundreds and hundreds of different types of balls.

Cricket balls and baseballs and racquetballs and wooden balls and balls made of string and balls made of tape and rubber-band balls and various objects in the shape of balls like oranges and apples and coconuts and plums and weird alien-looking balls…

And on the walls surrounding the Doctor were targets and bulls-eyes and giant "X"s and brightly flashing lights.

And the Doctor was moving and grabbing, flinging balls at the targets. Throwing with his eyes closed and bouncing balls off walls and behind his back and through his legs…

Shot after shot.

He hit a target every time.

Rose/Martha/Donna was amazed.

And she/she/she thought back to…

_The Doctor throwing the satsuma at the Sycorax door control, hitting it dead-on without breaking stride/ John Smith excitedly recounting how he saved a woman and child, all by flinging a cricket ball at some old pipes/ The Doctor casually mentioning at U.N.I.T. headquarters how he managed to disable the Sontaran by bouncing a racquetball off the wall and against his probic vent._

Obviously the skill wasn't quite so casual as the Doctor made it appear.

With a satisfied smile, Rose/Martha/Donna slunk off. She/she/she would _definitely_ be bringing this up the next time the Doctor's head got a bit too big.

She/she/she could picture it now. The Doctor would say, "Oh, didn't I tell you? I defeated the entire fleet of Daleks with this tennis ball. Just luck, really." And she/she/she would nonchalantly say, "It didn't look like luck when I saw you practicing in the TARDIS," and walk away, leaving him spluttering to come up with a response.

Rose/Martha/Donna giggled in anticipation.

* * *

_That's right! Three stories combined into one. Because it's better that way._

_On an unrelated note, I'm DONE WITH FINALS! Yay! It's my theory that many fanfic authors are currently undergoing finals, because the rate of story posting has been a bit down this week._


	69. Red Pill Blue Pill

**Red Pill Blue Pill**

It had been…blissful, at first.

Peaceful. Happy. Just…living. Being. Spending your days doing normal things with friends right beside you.

No more running, no more fighting, no more fleeing, no more pain, no more killing.

No more death.

And all the pages of all the books in the universe to devour.

But gradually, almost without notice…things began to change.

And it began to seem empty.

No more _running_, no more adventure, no more excitement, no more joy, no more thrill.

No more meaning.

And all those pages in all those books are filled with things you can never truly experience for yourself.

Stuck in a world where nothing you do matters. Stuck in a world where nothing you do changes anything. Stuck in a world where nothing you do makes a difference.

Stuck in a world where nothing you do is real.

A longer life isn't always a better one. And a half life, even one that lasts forever, can never be a full life.

When you love life, with all its brilliant highs and agonizing lows, a full life is the only one worth living.

River Song stood in front of the computer terminal.

And hit 'Delete.'

* * *

_Did I just kill River Song?! Maybe. But I feel like she was already dead. Seriously, Steven Moffat- haven't you ever seen _Groundhog's Day_? When you're stuck in a life that has no consequences, you're stuck in a life with no meaning. And I feel like River Song would not be the type of person who could accept that._

_The title refers to the line from_ The Matrix_._


	70. Dead Drunk: Part One

**Dead Drunk: Part One**

The Doctor lurched over the threshold of the TARDIS, his face white, arms wrapped around his stomach, and moaning slightly.

He ran into something.

It was Rose.

"Rose!"

The Doctor's head shot up, dismay driving away some of the fuzziness in his eyes.

"I've been worried sick about you!" Rose exclaimed, arms crossed. The Doctor stumbled past her. She spun around after him. "Doctor!"

With obvious reluctance, the Doctor stopped. He slowly turned, looking like a prisoner condemned. "I can explain this," he said, drawing himself upright. "I just—" He hunched back over with a groan, looking like he was about to be sick.

Rose's face held no sympathy. She advanced towards the Doctor.

He immediately began retreating backwards.

"That's an alien planet out there!" Rose said, pointing at the TARDIS doors. "And you _left me_. Alone!" At the last word, she pushed a finger in the Doctor's chest and watched as he stumbled back against the console. Rose shook her head. "Look at you! So drunk you can't even stand up straight!"

The Doctor froze, eyes darting around the TARDIS as if looking for a way to escape this situation. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. "I'm not _so_ drunk," he said, moving woozily away from the console. "I'm BRILLIANTLY drunk!" He put a finger in the air to punctuate this declaration and then fell back against the console as his feet became tangled together.

Rose's eyebrows went up.

"Time Lords don't do things by halves," the Doctor wheezed to Rose. It sounded like he had knocked the breath out of himself when he fell back against the console. In fact…

Rose leaned forward in astonishment. "Doctor, are you crying?"

He flopped his head to the side, resting it against his shoulder. "It's so sad," the Doctor sighed. "The world is filled with sad raindrops. Plip. Plop. Plip. Plop."

"Wish I had a video camera," Rose breathed to herself. She watched the Doctor for a moment more, then smiled wryly and headed for the hallway. She stopped to pat the Doctor on the cheek as she passed him. "Never would have thought you for a melancholy drunk."

He tripped forward and leaned down on Rose's shoulder heavily. "Why is the TARDIS filled with bananas?" he asked, looking at her puzzledly.

Groaning, Rose pushed him away and headed toward the doorway. "You're entirely too obsessed with bananas," she said, pointing back at him. "Even drunk, it's still not natural."

"Neither are fingers," the Doctor announced, wiggling his in front of his face. He turned to Rose with an expression of awe. "Think about it."

Rose looked at her own fingers. Then she shook her head distractedly. Reaching the doorway, she paused, and turned back to the Doctor.

He was now snatching at the air above the central console, giggling and muttering something about, "Pretty pretty starry stars."

Rose sighed. "I'm glad you're safe," she said softly. Then she slipped out of the room.

* * *

_Tune in for "Part Two" tomorrow. Duh, duh, duh..._


	71. Dead Drunk: Part Two

_WARNING: If you have not read "_Dead Drunk: Part One_" you really should. Spoilers, you know._

* * *

**Dead Drunk: Part Two**

* * *

_Previously:_

_The Doctor was now snatching at the air above the central console, giggling and muttering something about, "Pretty pretty starry stars."_

_Rose sighed. "I'm glad you're safe," she said softly. Then she slipped out of the room._

* * *

The Doctor remained standing, one hand in the air, listening intently until he could no longer hear Rose's footsteps. Then he dropped to his knees, letting out a long-suppressed moan of pain.

Carefully, he eased himself against the side of the console, gasping slightly as the movement jarred his side. The Doctor undid the buttons on his jacket, glancing down as he eased it away from his skin.

Blood gets sticky when it's left for too long.

"Just a scratch. You'll be up and running in no time," he muttered to himself. But the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head when he pressed his hand down on the wound contradicted his words. "It's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay," he hissed through gritted teeth.

After an eternity, the wave of pain ebbed slightly. The Doctor dropped his head back against the console and let out a harsh laugh. "Travelled across the universe and I'm worried about making it to the med center." He looked down again and swallowed very hard. Then, closing his eyes, every part of him concentrating inward, he rolled over onto his knees. From there, he flung a hand up blindly onto the console. Face clenched tightly, slight gasps of pain escaping despite his best efforts, he levered himself upright.

And lay bent across the console, head resting on it despite the uncomfortable bumpiness of the surface. His shoulders shook from silent sobs.

He lay like that for quite awhile, the hum of the TARDIS pulsing over his still form.

Finally, he roused himself. "Come on. You've faced down Daleks. You can do this." The Doctor drew in a deep breath. Holding it tightly, he pushed himself off the console. The pain, which had settled down to a dull throb as he'd rested, burst back into its full, agonizing glory, and the Doctor's breath rushed out of him in a gasp.

He stumbled over to the doorway leading out of the console room and grabbed for the frame, leaning against it heavily, letting it support him. Panting slightly, he rolled his head around to look out in the hallway.

No sign of Rose.

The Doctor's face, which had been pulled impossibly tight ever since she left, relaxed almost imperceptibly. He looked down the hallway silently, and his face tightened again. Shuffling against the walls, hunched over, he started the long journey to the med center.

But Rose would never know.

* * *

_Ha ha! Bet you didn't see that coming! _

_I was really excited when I posted this._


	72. We're Robbers!

**We're Robbers!**

"Oh, look- there's the building we need!"

The Doctor pointed with forced casualness and dashed off, leaving Martha standing in the street.

"Doctor, we're not finished here!"she yelled after him.

The Doctor seemed to have developed temporary deafness.

Martha's eyes narrowed. "Doctor?... Get back here- I'm warning you!" The Doctor disappeared around a corner. Martha let out a huff of exasperation. "That's it." She headed after him, rounding the corner and catching up just as he flashed his Psychic Paper at the security guard standing watch outside the building.

"Smith and Jones- Building Inspection Committee," the Doctor said, flashing the guard a smile. He started to open the door.

Martha cut in front of the Doctor. "We're not- don't listen to him." The guard paused.

The Doctor pushed her to the side, speaking through gritted teeth. "Yes, we ARE."

Martha ducked under his arm. "No- we're…we're robbers! Yeah, we've come to steal ya blind!"

The security guard cautiously backed into the building, closing the door securely behind him.

The Doctor turned to Martha, an incredulous look on his face. "W-What? That doesn't even make sense!"

Martha looked at the security guard, now safely inside the building. She spoke to him through the glass, nodding smugly. "That's right- lock AND bar the door."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor grabbed the cell bars and tested their strength. They didn't move an inch. The Doctor sighed and turned away from them. He pointed to Martha. "This is all your fault."

Martha was standing in the back of the cell. She crossed her arms. "I stand by my actions."

The Doctor glared at her. She glared back.

Finally, the Doctor groaned in exasperation and flung his hands in the air. "Fine. I'll apologize to your mother."

Martha didn't move.

The Doctor grimaced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "AND your father." His tone was resigned.

Martha cleared her throat.

The Doctor spun around in frustration, then turned back to Martha, spreading his arms wide. "And Tish. Happy?"

Martha continued glaring at him.

The Doctor hesitated, then looked at Martha with annoyance. "What? I didn't say anything bad about Leo!"

Martha's brow crinkled. "Oh, right- that was me. Sorry." She uncrossed her arms. "Yeah, I'm happy now."

The Doctor walked back to the cell bars and began softly hitting his head against them. "Martha," he said in a distant voice, "The next time you want me to do something…just ask. Please."

Martha walked over and stood beside him. "Fine. As long as you promise to listen."

The Doctor glanced over at her. "Right. Promise."

They stared out into the police station.

* * *

_So, no _Dead Drunk: Part Three. _*Ducks*_ _Sorry. If I do anything more with that I'll probably turn it into its own seperate story. Thanks for all the great reviews!_

_I just got done inputing survey data for 3 hours. And what better way to celebrate the end of that then posting a new chapter!_


	73. What do you see?

**What do you see?**

"Why do you pay such attention to that insignificant little planet?"

The Doctor did not answer.

"Why?" the voice demanded. "You see the threads of time like no one has before you. You cut straight to the tipping points in history." He leaned forward. "What do you see?"

The Doctor still did not answer.

Another voice laughed mockingly. "He sees a place where he can feel important. Even the lowest of the Time Lords is like a god to those pathetic humans."

Still the Doctor did not look up, did not speak.

The other voices all laughed, at him, and left the room, leaving the Doctor sitting silently. Alone.

He lifted his head and addressed the empty room.

"I look at the Time Lords, and I see death. And decay. And destruction. "

And his face was so, so dark.

He stood up. "I look at the humans, and I see life. And growth. And tenacity."

And his face was…envious?

He walked away from the table. At the doorway, he paused and turned around, gazing upon the room where so many decisions had been for Gallifrey.

So many decisions not made.

And whether some part of the Doctor's subconscious recognized patterns his conscious mind failed to heed, or whether they were simply careless words thrown to the wind, the Doctor spoke his final thoughts on the subject.

"They might outlast us all."

He turned and left the room.


	74. Simple

**Simple**

It was spring cleaning day on the TARDIS, although it was not, technically, "spring", and space did not, technically, have a "day". Nonetheless, the Doctor had assembled the motley collection of tools he needed to give the TARDIS a good once over.

"Ohhhh. No no no no no!"

The Doctor frantically whacked a complicated-looking metal contraption against the side of the TARDIS. The series of high-pitched beeps it was emitting continued to increase in volume.

Donna put her hands over her ears. "Make it stop!"

"Come on!" the Doctor yelled at the device. He puffed his cheeks and blew into it.

The beeping stopped.

"Ha! There we go!"

The Doctor brandished the now-working Energy Oscillator. He spun towards Donna, who was cautiously removing her hands from the sides of her head.

"If something doesn't work, hit it," he told her with a wink, tapping the Energy Oscillator against his hand. "If it still doesn't work, blow the dust off." He shook his head and laughed. "Works every time!"

Donna sniffed. "With all your 'Time Lordy' technology, I would have thought things would have been a bit less…simple."

The Doctor gave her one of his crazy grins. "The best things in life _are_ simple, Donna." He paused, then nodded towards her. "Take you, for instance."

Donna hesitated for a moment before smiling, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Well…thanks."

The Doctor jauntily bobbed his head and walked out of the room. In the hallway, he counted down. Five, four, three, two, one…

"SPACEMAN!"

Oh, boy. The Doctor broke into a jog.

"I'M GONNA TRY YOUR PLAN OUT ON YOU!"

The Doctor started sprinting.

* * *

_Ever since the scene in _"Partners in Crime"_ where the Doctor whacked his Adipose-detector against his hand and then blew into it, I knew I had to write something about that. Because I love that even Time Lords do this to get stuff to work! Show of hands: how many people have employed his method to get their gaming systems running__? I know that's how I always got my Nintendo games to start. _


	75. Boxing Man

**Boxing Man**

_First there were the Time Lords._

And that was the biggest- and the worst- blow of all.

The funny thing was…he did it to himself. Except it's not funny, it's heartbreaking, and the punch ruined him, destroyed him inside and out.

Left him desolate.

Left him alone.

Sometimes he feels as though he is still reeling from the blow, falling down, down, down into space with nowhere to land.

_Then there was Rose._

That hit was all the harder because he had opened up his defenses.

Let down his guard.

Made himself vulnerable.

And when it landed he thought he would shatter.

He told himself that she was still so alive.

But not here. Not with him.

When she first was…lost, it felt as though his chest had been ripped open. Gaping holes where he used to be whole. But as with all such injuries, gradually, it settled down to a dull ache.

So many bruises, collected over the years. So many scars…

And he thinks he's got them under control, locked them up, but then some sight, some word, some sound…He realizes who isn't there. And his chest starts to throb again.

Sometimes he feels as though there's nothing left of the person he used to be. Just a mass of wounds, barely holding together.

_Then there was the Master_

It was like the Time War all over again.

Except this time it seemed to him that he knew what was coming. Knew it and dreaded it and tried frantically to stop it. But it was like a bad dream, where no matter how…hard…you run…you can't get away.

Can't ever get away.

Despite throwing caution to the wind, despite risking the lives of his friends, and _their_ friends, and _everything_ to save the Master, he failed again.

Battered once more. Reeling from another punch.

When all he desperately wanted to do was embrace his opponent.

Sometimes he feels as though everything he touches is cursed. Like Midas, except everything _he_ touches turns to dust.

_Then there was Martha._

He still wasn't upright from the train wreck of the Master. Hardly had time to draw a breath.

But the Universe isn't fair. And it kicks you when you're down. And though he was battered, he still had enough pride not to beg.

So he said, "Okay," and she left. To go back to the tattered remains of a family that had been through hell.

Because of him.

Honestly, the only thing that surprised him was that he hadn't managed to drive her away before this.

Sometimes he feels as though he is beaten before he starts. That the only thing left for him to do is lose.

_Then there was River._

He met someone who he might or might not like. She called him "Pretty Boy." And she made him feel uncomfortable and shocked and then…she made him smile. And he decided he liked her.

Then she died.

Oh, he "saved" her, but…not really. Not to be with him.

How can you stagger from a strike that will only truly hit in the future?

_That's_ the curse of being a Time Lord.

Sometimes he feels as though the only purpose of time is to allow you to hurt that much longer.

_Finally there is Bad Wolf_.

And now he's shying away from blows that haven't even landed. Skittish. Scared. Punch-drunk fighter. Trying to escape the shadows that surround him.

But he knows he can't.

And Rose is back. And Martha. And Sarah-Jane. And Jack. And for one perfect moment the throbbing disappears and he is happy.

One moment.

Then he feels the awful dread rising up from the pit of his stomach. Because there will be a price to pay. There is always a price to pay.

And when the day is saved…that's when he knows he is lost.

Two soul-sucking punches.

BAM.

BAM.

Blindsided.

It hurts all the more because they're safe.

_Rose. His beautiful Rose. _

And he can't have her.

_Donna. His fiery Donna._

And she can't have him.

And he's left lying on the floor, all strength gone.

KNOCK-OUT.


	76. Penny

**Penny**

"Are you sure this is a tradition?" the Doctor asked Donna, looking at her dubiously. She was dragging him down a cobblestone street, one hand clutching his arm, the other holding onto something tightly.

"Oh, yes," Donna said, her eyes focused on the only two-story building in the area. "Find a penny, pick it up, put it in a bank for luck. Everybody does it!" She waved her free arm with great gusto and nearly whacked the Doctor across the face. He ducked, and let himself continue to be dragged along.

"Only, I thought it had something to do with…fountains, and things." The Doctor looked around futilely, hoping to see a fountain.

Donna huffed in exasperation, keeping her head turned away from the Doctor. "Oi, who's the human here, spaceman?"

The Doctor raised a hand defensively. "Right, right."

He still didn't look convinced.

They reached the bank. Donna let go of the Doctor's arm. "Okay, this'll only take a sec. You just…wait outside." She looked around somewhat distractedly. "See if they've got a little shop or something." She marched into the bank.

Once she was inside, the Doctor tsk-tsked under his breath. "Donna Noble," he said in mock disappointment, shaking his head. He squatted down, pulling his stethoscope from his jacket and pressing it against the bank doors. He could just hear Donna's voice.

"Hello, like to open an account…"

The Doctor smiled fondly, pulling his stethoscope away from the doors and slipping it into his pocket. He stood up, craning his neck and looking hopefully down the street. Maybe there _was_ a little shop…

After all, there was no sense in telling Donna that _this_ particular bank ended up destroyed in the Second Great Fire of London. The Doctor started to whistle, strolling down the street.

No sense in telling her at all.

* * *

_Got back early from our Memorial Day extravaganza. My cousins and I went fishing at this private pond and we were pulling up sunnies and perch by the dozen. I also caught a nice little bass. It was sweet!_


	77. Save Me

**Save Me**

The Doctor and Donna stumbled onto the TARDIS, out of breath, laughing.

"I've gotta tell you," Donna said, falling into a chair, "You certainly know how to spend an evening."

The Doctor's grin stretched a mile wide, delight radiating off him. "Did you see their faces? Brilliant!"

Donna removed one of her shoes and started rubbing her foot. "So what made you choose this?" she asked breathlessly.

The Doctor's grin faded a little bit. "Choose what?"

Donna looked at him questioningly, laughing a little bit. "This!" she said, sweeping her arms wide. "Traveling from place to place, saving people. Doing it ALL the time."

The Doctor turned away from her and started adjusting a control on the central console. "Someone's got to do it," he said.

Now both of them had stopped laughing.

The silence held, and stretched, and filled the room with its pressure.

But Donna was Donna and so she broke it. "And who saves you?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor's back tensed. The silence stretched again. Finally, he shrugged. "I save myself."

But his voice had the same hollow quality as when he told someone he was fine.


	78. This Is Your Life: Penny

**This Is Your Life: Penny**

When Penny was five…she felt really, really sorry for the poor puppy chained to the neighbor's shed. It would bark and bark and all it wanted to do was be free! So one day, when her Mum was watching soaps and her Dad was off at work, she marched determinedly over to the pretty doggy with the intent of removing its chains.

Apparently the doggy did not want to be free. She still has the scar on her hand to prove it.

When Penny was twelve… she learned in school about the Cold War and the wall dividing East and West Berlin. Those poor people, separated so cruelly like that! So she saved her allowance, organized a rally (which her parents and two random bystanders attended), and almost drove her friends away with constant pleadings to help her fundraise. But she had a mission, and she was going to make it to Berlin to see what she could do about this horrible problem.

Then Reagan said "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall." She didn't talk to her history teacher again for weeks.

When Penny was twenty-two… a riot broke out right under her nose. She was with a couple of friends, having a night out on the town, and it just…happened. It seemed like things happened a lot around her. But she rolled up her sleeves, and waded right in, and started asking people if they were complete nutters and what were they doing? Scolding them, and hadn't they thought properly about their actions? And she managed to stop a storekeeper from getting his windows smashed in, because the rioters were laughing too hard at her to complete the deed.

But when the police swept in, guess who was one of three people arrested?

Penny. Poor, poor Penny.

When Penny was thirty…she grew suspicious of an organization claiming to make the fat just walk away. And during her investigations, she hit the jackpot. But then...

She was caught in the bathroom, tied to a chair, threatened with a gun, rescued as an afterthought, caught again, tied to a chair again, and finally managed to escape for real, making her way out of the building hobbled over by the chair.

Her exclusive story was no longer quite so exclusive when half of London saw the great big spaceship zoom over town.

But Penny will keep trying, and keep sticking her nose into any sign of trouble. Because her parents told her, "You were born under a lucky star," and she knows one day, some day soon, if she just keeps trying…

Someday she will save the world.

* * *

_Another story with "Penny" in the title? What's up with that? What can I say, it just worked out that way._

_When I watched "Partners in Crime" the character of Penny just struck me as someone with the survival instincts of a lemming. But for all that, she never gave up, and she achieved at least some degree of success. And I wondered what her life had been like up to that point._

_I just got back from an eye examination, and my pupil's are dilated. The only way I'm even reading this is I've got my screen zoomed up 200% and it's still really blurry. So any errors can be blamed entirely on that! I almost cracked up during my eye examination, though, because during the laser screening test, during certain portions of the test they tell you, "Don't blink." And I would start supplying the rest of the dialogue in my head and then I would almost laugh out loud which would have proven awkward._

_Good times, good times. _


	79. I CAN DO ANYTHING!

**I CAN DO ANYTHING!**

He's tweaking the inner workings of the teleport and twisting together wires and linking disparate connections and overriding processes and frantically working against a machine that's not meant to do any of this.

He can hear someone saying something in the background but he ignores it, focuses on his task, just on the task, just another puzzle, nothing else to think about, focuses intently because he knows if he just…tries…hard enough…

_He has so much power._

_He can travel anywhere in the Universe. He can travel to any point in time. _

_He can tell you the biology and history of thousands upon thousands of races._

_He can seize control of any situation, just sweep in and take over, on the strength of his name alone._

_He has a room full of tools he has collected over the years that, taken all together, allow him to fix just about anything. Physical, mental, emotional, problems, hurts, wrongs… _

_He can fix it all._

_He can do anything._

But now the machine is winning and his twisted wires are burning and the systems are crashing and Mr. Copper's words penetrate his head. "Doctor, she's gone."

No.

He turns. He looks. He looks at the reason why he is working so desperately.

Astrid.

Astrid who is falling.

Oh, Astrid.

And he feels a faceless, nameless rage welling up from the pit of his stomach and choking his throat and pushing him to his feet and he kicks out, lashes out, and screams his despair to the universe.

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

_Except this._

_Anything but this._

_Why can't he do this?_

_Why can't he stop the people he loves from dying?_

_No matter what tools he pulls out or what knowledge he remembers or what he says or where he goes or when he goes…_

_He. Can't. Stop it._

_And each time he fails, he feels so…weak._

_Helpless._

_Hopeless._

_What kind of a man is he?_

_One who saves those he has never seen, but not those who have stolen his hearts._

The echoes of his proclamation bounce around and mock him.

He slowly walks over to Astrid. Still quavering.

It's not fair.

And he knows he can't save her. Knows she'll become one more name he can't remember without a pang, one more name he can't speak without feeling guilt and sadness and rage stab his hearts.

But one thing he can do.

"You're not falling Astrid, you're flying."

He wishes someone would stop him from falling.


	80. Bombed

**Bombed**

"Not good. Not good not good not good!"

The Doctor bent over the metal box, peering at it through his glasses. Holding his sonic screwdriver with both hands, he began probing the box, the blue light from the screwdriver shining brightly in the semi-lit corridor.

"So I'm gonna say that whatever that is, it's not good, eh?" Donna asked, her voice slightly breathless.

Donna had a way of stating the obvious.

The Doctor straightened up with a hiss of frustration. He spoke intently to Donna, looking down at the box. "Donna, that's a bomb in there. But I can't get in. The whole thing is deadlock sealed. I can't get in, and it's going to go off in minutes."

Donna laughed nervously. "Can't we just chuck it out into space?" She looked around the passageway. "This spaceship's gotta have an airlock or a, a…something!"

The Doctor settled back over the box. "No, because its got a motion detector. Any movement and…"

"BOOM!" Donna supplied. She stared balefully at the box. Then she leaned closer. "Hang on a minute- this thing's got screws in it!"

"Yeah, well, deadlock sealed," the Doctor said shortly. He was cycling through the settings on his sonic screwdriver, testing each from different angles around the box.

Donna shoved him. "Move over, Spaceman." She knelt in front of the box and took out a small Swiss Army knife, flicking it open.

The Doctor stared at her in shock, sprawled on the floor.

Donna calmly began unscrewing each of the bolts from the box.

The Doctor was still trying to form words.

She reached the last bolt, the others littered beside her. Upon its removal, the sides of the box sprang open, revealing the bomb in all its deadly glory. Donna stood up with a firm nod of the head and swept her arm dramatically towards the bomb. "All yours, Doctor."

He gaped at her.

"Oi! Doctor! Chop chop!" Donna snapped her fingers in front of the Doctor's face.

With a jerk, he stumbled over to the bomb. "Right, right. I'll just…" He looked over at Donna, his hands already working on disabling the bomb. "How did you do that?!" he asked disbelievingly.

"All your fancy-schmancy technology…" Donna shook her head. "I just used an actual screwdriver, you dolt! Now hurry up and stop that bomb!"

The Doctor hurried up.

* * *

_I may have taken some liberties with regards to what a deadlock seal actually does, but the way I figure it, it only protects against advanced technology. So it might stop the Doctor from turning the screws with his sonic screwdriver, but not with an actual screwdriver. Because real screwdrivers are cool that way._


	81. Ashes

**Ashes**

The snow is falling gently down onto the streets and buildings of London. A real snow. Not ashes. Not dust. A Christmas snow. How many have there been, over the years?

Jackson Lake is standing outside the TARDIS. A real man. Not a Time Lord.

Oh, Jackson.

He's smart. He's brave.

…He's been damaged.

And maybe that's why he asks the Doctor the question. Because once you are damaged you begin to notice it in others. Jackson Lake. Mourning the loss of a wife. Celebrating the gain of a son.

But the gains never completely cancel out the losses. Like a perfectly wrapped present. Once undone, it can never become what it was.

Not even if you pick up all the pieces.

So Jackson Lake turns to the Doctor, and tears him open.

"Tell me one thing," he begins hesitantly.

_Joan, standing stiffly in the middle of the room. "Just one question…would anyone here have died?"_

Now why did that pop into his head?

The Doctor forces his attention back on Jackson.

"All those facts and figures I saw in the Doctor's life…you were never alone."

_The Face of Boe. "You are never alone." Shock, bewilderment, anger…hope._

This is getting ridiculous. He must be more tired then he thought…

Jackson's words continue.

"All those bright and shining companions…"

"_For one moment…one shining moment_…" Wait a minute, he said that. Yesterday? The day before?

It seemed so much longer.

Jackson finally gets to his question. "Not anymore?"

Two words.

Gentle words.

They rip the Doctor apart.

"No," he answers. Short, quick. The quicker the better because maybe it won't hurt so much if he makes it quick. Like pulling off a scab.

Because he had managed to pretend, for a short time. Here in old-earth London. Brand new time period. No one to know who he was. He could pretend. Like he had always been alone. Like nothing was missing.

Maybe he doesn't want to stop pretending.

But this is Christmas.

What were the words of that song? "Should auld acquaintance be forgot…" And Jackson… "In memory of those we have lost."

And maybe Jackson is thinking of the son he just recently found, and how even before he remembered everything, he had felt so lost.

And empty.

Because something bright had gone from his life.

Maybe he feels a certain protectiveness of this man he once thought he was. Maybe he's just curious. Whatever the reason, he doesn't leave the Doctor's answer alone. He goes on. Picking at scabs. "Might I ask why not?"

"They leave," the Doctor says, raising his eyebrows.

And now the Doctor is playing a new game of pretend. _Let's pretend none of this hurts._

Because he's the Doctor.

And nothing hurts him.

"Because they should."

_Martha, standing awkwardly in the TARDIS, trying so hard to explain to him. "This is me, getting out." Returning, a ring on her finger, confident, secure…happy. Happier without him. _

_His Martha Jones._

"Or, they find someone else."

_Rose, kissing the man who is and is not him. Him walking away from her on a beach at Bad Wolf Bay, having refused to answer the one question he always knew the answer to. Safer without him. _

_Oh Rose…_

"And some of them, some of them…forget me."

_Donna, standing in the TARDIS. Brilliant Donna. Brilliant Donna reduced to begging. "__No. No, please! Please! No, NO! No!" But he doesn't listen because he can't let her die. Better without hi—_

"_But she was better with you!"_

Wilf's voice sounds in his head and he breaks from that train of thought because he can't bear it any longer.

The Doctor looks away from Jackson and prepares to start the latest in a long line of lies. _Let's pretend._

"I suppose, in the end…"

_It's all for the best. They're better off. I'm fine. _

Throw out some flippant remark and move on. Keep your feelings tucked away and only let them out in your nightmares. Keep on pretending and you'll never be broken.

But his loneliness makes the words bitter on his tongue and he cannot spit them out. All this loss… it's too much. And he finds his lies have turned to ashes in his mouth.

_Ashes, ashes..._

And suddenly he can't pretend any more, standing in this London street with the snow falling down. Doesn't have the energy to speak any words except the ones filling his soul.

"They break my heart," the Doctor says.

* * *

_That last scene in "The Next Doctor" was so sad. But so great! And so perfect. Waahhh!_

_I'm finding myself in the brand new position of being entirely up-to-date on Doctor Who. For the first time EVER I have seen all of the episodes that have been broadcast. It's nice not to have to worry about spoilers. But it also means I have nothing to look forward to until October. Ahhhhh!_


	82. Declaration

**Declaration**

The Doctor clambered on top of the check-out counter and stood up. The cashier stared at him in shock. Rose buried her head in her hands and groaned. He wouldn't…

"Testing…testing…" The Doctor grabbed the intercom from the cashier and spoke into it, his voice projecting over the entire store.

Rose took a magazine off the rack in front of her and slunk down, holding it in front of her face. _Please, please, please let there be an alien invasion right now. One with brain-wiping and memory loss. Please!_

But the only alien invasion was taking place right in front of her. Having figured out that the intercom was, in fact, working, the Doctor set his feet and looked confidently down upon the startled shoppers.

"Attention: Humans, humanoids, aliens pretending to be humans, and Mrs. Bloomerfield." He winked at the elderly lady standing in the check-out line next to theirs.

Rose let out another groan. Mrs. Bloomerfield lived in the flat next door. And whatever she knew, the whole neighborhood did, too.

"Is this going to take long, Doctor? I've got to get home in time for my afternoon tea!" Mrs. Bloomerfield looked at the Doctor anxiously.

"Won't take long at all, ma'am," the Doctor said gallantly.

Rose sank deeper into her corner.

"Anyway, where was I?" The Doctor tapped the intercom against his chin, thinking. Every time he tapped, a large screech of feedback vibrated through the store, causing shoppers to cover their ears in pain. The Doctor appeared not to notice.

At the rate Rose was going, she would soon be in the basement of the store.

The Doctor stopped tapping. "Ah, yes. Attention!" He suddenly grinned wide enough to fit all of London in his smile, and made his declaration.

"I WAS WRONG!" he proclaimed to the crowd.

Then he turned and looked directly at Rose. His eyes twinkled and he spoke softer now, as if they were alone. "And the brilliant Rose Tyler was right."

With that, he hopped off the counter and offered her his hand.

She looked up at him, ignoring for a moment the hordes of shoppers staring directly at them. "So gonna kill you," she said under her breath. But she couldn't seem to stop grinning as she grabbed the Doctor's hand and let him swing her up.

Besides, the Doctor was right.

She was brilliant.

* * *

_You know who else is brilliant? YOU GUYS!!! I've had over 2000 visitors for all my stories this month, which is absolutely, completely awesome. So thanks for reading my stories and giving me tons of feedback. You are what makes writing fun._

_Yay!_


	83. I Name You

**I Name You**

When someone calls you by name, they own a piece of you.

A part of your soul.

They can command your attention, with a single word.

You are no longer hidden.

* * *

What's in a name?

_A rose by any other name would smell as sweet…_

But… would it? Really? Or is some imperceptible piece of the rose created through its name?

Names are vital.

* * *

Being named.

It means you are a part of something.

It means someone knows you.

It means you belong.

* * *

No one knows the Doctor's name.

Since the destruction of his planet, his people…

His name might as well have burned with them.

He wishes it had.

Because now he stands in the midst of the destruction, squinting through the smoke and the flames, facing the man who created the race that destroyed his people.

That destroyed him.

Davros.

And with the screams of the dead still echoing in the Doctor's ears, with his mind still reeling, with his eyes still tight from suppressed pain…

It is then that Davros makes his revelation.

And his words punch straight into the Doctor's hearts.

"I name YOU, forever, YOU are the Destroyer of Worlds."

He knows the Doctor's name.

* * *

_Bwahahaha! Okay, this is definitely mere speculation, and not cannon, but...it's at least plausible. I mean, think about in "Silence of the Library." Both River and the Doctor did not look very happy-go-lucky at the announcement of his name. Now that _could _have been because the Doctor likes his privacy and River knew she was breaking it, or...it could have been because the Doctor has a heck of a guilt-trip of a name._

_Anyways, it was fun to write._

_And now it's time for...._

_AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:_

_Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Bad news? Okay._

_Bad News: I'm going to be gone for the next three months (until August 21st), working as a counselor at a summer camp. I will have an hour off each day and four weekends off the entire time period. There will not be much time to write anything._

_Good News: I have been stockpiling stories like a hungry squirrel for quite some time now, and have accumulated enough to post, at minimum, one new chapter for The Doctor Who Knew Too Much each week. I also have several rough drafts for various one-shots._

_So never fear: this is not the end! See my profile page for more details._


	84. Waterworld

**Waterworld**

"Qui siamo!"

The Doctor flung the TARDIS doors open, grinning like a maniac.

"But that's…that's…" Donna stared outside with amazement. "…that's water!" She pointed a finger at the swirling blue outside the doors and exhaled in delight. "We're under WATER!"

"Yep," the Doctor said, sweeping grandly towards the door. "Welcome to Waterworld." He tilted his head. "Although, technically, it's not really water."

Donna scoffed. "Looks like water." She walked past the Doctor to stand in front of the doorway and stared out, mesmerized by the waves of light dancing through the blue. Then she tentatively stuck one finger past the invisible barrier generated by the TARDIS. When it wasn't immediately destroyed, she stuck the rest of her hand out and wiggled it around. "Yeah, definitely water."

"Well…" The Doctor rocked back on his heels. "…it's not. Looks like water, feels like water, but that," he said, pointing outside, "is NOT water."

"Look," Donna said, turning away from the glimmering depths for a moment, "I may not know a lot of things-"

The Doctor snorted.

Donna glared at him. "-But I think I can recognize water."

The Doctor shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then, without warning, he jumped through the doors.

Donna let out an involuntary yelp. But the Doctor didn't float away, didn't start flailing for air. Instead he waved at her. "Come on!"

Bubbles came out of his mouth.

Donna looked at him, aghast. "No!"

The Doctor shook his head, his hair floating freely. "Coward!"

Donna straightened up. That did it. No cheeky alien was going to stand there and insult _her_. Without giving her brain time to think, she dove straight through the doorway...

And promptly crashed to the ground, her mouth gaping in surprise. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed. "I can breathe."

The Doctor looked down at her smugly. "Yep. As soon as the molecules hit your mouth, POP, they evaporate." He waggled his fingers by his mouth.

Donna began moving her arms through the liquid all around her, then looked up at the Doctor. "But I'm not floating."

"Nope. Like I said, not water." He offered her his hand.

Donna glanced at it, then at the Doctor, sighing resignedly. "Isn't anything ever simple with you?"

"Nope," the Doctor said. He grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her up beside him. Then he grinned. "Just the way I like it!"

And with that, they headed away from the TARDIS, ready to explore Waterworld.

-------------------------------------------------5 hours later--------------------------------------------------

The doors to the TARDIS slammed open. Donna barged in, one hand over her mouth, eyes agape. The Doctor trailed after her, looking slightly sheepish. At the edge of the console room Donna whirled around, pinning the Doctor in place with a furious look.

"Is it possible, in the entire universe, that there's one place, just one, where we could go THAT IS NORMAL?"

Donna's voice rose until it was roughly the sound of a sonic boom.

The Doctor looked down, scuffing one foot on the floor, before looking back up at Donna. "In my defense, I've never encountered anyone on this planet before." He scratched the back of his head, then mumbled, "And I thought they were interesting."

Donna's eyes flared. She drew up even higher. "Oh, don't you even start on me, Spaceman!" She turned away, seeking out a chair and sitting down. Then she covered her face with her hands.

"I'm never flushing another goldfish down the toilet as long as I live."

* * *

_Well, I'm back. I had this done on Saturday but our camp internet connection (which is satellite) decided to quit for awhile. It's back now, though. I feel like this chapter is slightly different from what I normally do because I chose to focus more on the place the Doctor traveled to rather than a situation. _

_Look for another chapter next week Friday or Saturday. _


	85. Pride

**Pride**

She could hear Donna in the entrance room, digging around in her bag.

Sylvia paused, unseen, outside the room, a strange look on her face. Then she stepped in quickly. _He who hesitates is lost…_ "Donna?" she asked, and her voice sounded…uncertain.

Tentative.

Like she was talking to a stranger.

And Donna glanced up for a second, eyes wary at the potential for criticism. And then her head went back down and she began to briskly search through her bag again. "Really not the time, Mom."

And suddenly Sylvia noticed how she was careful to keep her voice harsh. Careful not to make eye contact. Careful not to offer any hint of vulnerability.

Careful to keep the mask in place.

And then Donna stood up and turned her back on Sylvia, as she had done so many times before. And she opened the door and stepped outside. Heading to her job, which, as Sylvia had reminded her so often, was as a _temp_. And when was she going to get a real job?

The memories were bitter in Sylvia's mind now.

And then Donna was out of sight.

And in another time, another place, another world… Sylvia would have let her leave. Would have watched her daughter walk away. Would have been glad to let her walk away. Would have muttered an insult under her breath for good measure.

But this was a new time, and Sylvia couldn't seem to let her go.

"Donna!" she said suddenly, running to the doorway.

"What?" Donna asked with a heavy sigh, turning around, a sullen look on her face. And now Sylvia could see behind the sullenness; could see the discouragement that was so quickly masked.

And Sylvia looked at Donna, her daughter, her only daughter, standing in the sun with her hair glinting like fire. And suddenly she had to swallow down a lump that appeared in her throat. And she pushed aside her doubts, and her fears, and her bitter thoughts, and told Donna exactly what she was thinking.

"I'm proud of you."

Donna froze. Froze in front of the house with the sun shining down.

"You…you are?"

And Sylvia saw her daughter. As if for the first time.

"Yes. So proud."

And she meant it with all her heart.

And for a moment, a brief wonderful moment, the mask dropped. And Sylvia saw the Donna who was brilliant.

But then Donna shifted awkwardly, and pointed her thumb over her shoulder, and began taking steps backwards towards the car, and said, "Well…I've got to get to work."

Mask firmly back in place. Brushing off everything that made her weak.

And Sylvia watched as her brightly shining daughter was replaced by something duller.

And her heart broke.

_You saved the world, _Sylvia thought. _Oh, Donna._

She turned and went back into the house.

* * *

_I always wondered how Sylvia would respond to the Doctor's challenge at the end of_ Journey's End_._ _This is my take on it. _

_I'm still busy with camp, but look for another chapter next Friday or Saturday. And next weekend is my weekend off, so I'm going to try to get a one-shot posted as well. We'll see..._


	86. Sonic'ed Up

**Sonic'ed Up**

Are you tired of feeling like your sonic device is inadequate? Tired of shamefully hiding your sonic device from your friends? Tired of constantly making excuses for why your sonic device is so small? Then we have the deal for you! Humanoid, amphibe, biped, moped, wait that's a bike, it doesn't matter. Our specially trained employees are capable of matching over 800,000 species with a sonic device designed exactly for their special needs. What are you waiting for? Order yours today.

_Warning: Sonic GO! reserves the right to refuse currencies from hostile and volatile planets. A sonic device is not for everyone. Side effects from sonic use include giddiness, egomania, fool-hardiness, and blue hands. Sonic GO! is not responsible for any damage or injury to owners due to flippant use of sonic device._


	87. Starfish

**Starfish**

He goes to the beach every day.

And gazes at the starfish, lying helpless on the sand, doomed to death.

Unless he saves them.

So each day, every day, he makes the slow walk up and down the beach.

Saving the starfish.

Tossing them high in the air, so they splash back down into the brilliant, sparkling water.

And on very rare days, very special days…he saves every single starfish. Everyone lives.

And he goes to bed happy.

But more often, far too often…he cannot save them all. He cannot even begin to save them all.

And the dead pile at his doorstep.

So slowly, he begins to build a wall. A wall to hide the dead starfish. A wall so he will not have to look at them, will not have to think about them, will not have to watch as they die.

A wall so he can pretend he doesn't care.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A new day, a new beach. And when he arrives on the shore, he knows today will be a bad day. The starfish, piling up by the thousands. A hot, hot day, with the sun beating the slow drumbeat of the doomed.

He knows he will not even be able to make a dent in the dead.

So he decides not to try.

And he turns around and begins to walk away from the beach. To go back behind his wall.

But then _she_ speaks.

He had forgotten she was even there. Because he was remembering another bad day. And another beach. And on that beach, oh so many starfish died.

All the starfish.

He had built a wall to hide that beach as well.

Forever.

But _she_ stops him in his tracks. Because she makes a request. A simple, pleading request.

_Just save one._

And somehow she has broken down his wall.

He looks at the starfish, dying on the beach, and he knows almost all of them will die. Most are dead already.

But he can save one.

He goes down to the beach. He bends over. He picks up a starfish and flings it back into the brilliant, sparkling water.

One saved.

* * *

_This was inspired by "Fires of Pompeii." At first I thought the Doctor's attitude towards all the dying people was pretty harsh, even if I could understand the rationale behind it. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I could understand his attitude. And this is what came out of that. _

_Happy 4th of July!_


	88. Life is NOT like Star Trek

**Life is NOT like Star Trek**

_This is the moment…_

_In which Danny Llewellyn learns that life is NOT like Star Trek._

He steps forward hesitantly, but with an earnest face. "The human race is taking its first step towards the stars, but…we are like children compared to you." He is sure that some part of the Sycorax will be stirred by mankind's noble attempt to reach beyond themselves. By their ability to blossom and grow like a fragile flower that only needs …

The Sycorax blast him back to the stars he loves.

_In which Major Blake learns that aliens do NOT follow the Geneva Convention._

He steps forward, enraged. "That man was your prisoner! Even your species must have articles of war, forbidding—"

Apparently not. He gets blasted too.

_In which Rose learns that unlike in movies, bluffing does NOT tend to work in real life._

She steps forward nervously and begins using every last card in the deck. Everything she can remember the Doctor saying, every alien race they've encountered which could pose a threat to the Sycorax.

"I command you to leave this world with all the authority of the Slitheen Parliament of Raxacoricofallapatorius, and um... the Gelth Confederacy..."

And she, at least, has enough experience with other species to know that she will either get very, very lucky….or this will end badly.

Because she's like a child, babbling words that, when taken separately, have meaning, but put together become nothing more than nonsense.

The Sycorax start to laugh, and she makes a mental note that if they all survive this, she's gonna have to get the Doctor to teach her something REALLY threatening to say.

She just might use it on him first.

_In which the Doctor learns that there is a reason he does NOT use conventional weapons._

Thus far he's been smashed in the stomach, nearly had his foot chopped off, and gotten slammed in the face. And now he's been knocked to the ground and really does get his hand chopped off.

Bugger.

Much better to stick with superior weapons.

Like satsumas.

And words.

_This is the moment…_

_In which the Earth learns…that it is NOT alone._

* * *

_My sister and I were watching "The Christmas Invasion" and it was late at night and we just started cracking up the whole time everyone was on the Sycorax ship. Because they were all trying so hard to deal with the situation, and they were all failing so miserably. And it was just incredibly funny. And yet, that's what makes the scene, because you realize how vital the Doctor is and how much he is needed, by seeing how successful people are when the Doctor isn't there. _

_Good times, good times._


	89. Free Fall

****

Free Fall

It's funny how your mind works.

Because here he is, in the dead of the night, with the city sleeping beneath him.

And he's stuck in a metal cradle, dangling off the side of a building, and all his attention is focused on getting down.

But then Donna yells "Cutting the cable!" and he looks up and the cable is sparkling and smoking and with a suddenness that is shocking it breaks free and then everything is jolting and tilting and falling…

Donna is falling.

DONNA.

And he leans over the edge of the cradle, his hearts pounding so hard it seems they will stop working any moment, and he sees her.

Clinging to the broken cable for dear life.

And it suddenly feels as if he's the one who's about to die.

"DONNA!" he screams. "HOLD ON!"

But it's not Donna he's seeing.

Funny how your mind works.

He's seeing another friend. Her blonde hair blowing back. And himself, watching, helpless. As she clung to a lever for dear life.

She didn't hold on.


	90. Hands

**Hands**

The Doctor was a morning person.

Donna was not.

This led to certain…tensions.

"Well, well, well- look who's finally up!" The Doctor smiled cheekily at Donna as she shuffled into the console room.

Donna didn't look up from the mug of coffee she clutched in her hands, grunting a response that the Doctor interpreted to mean, "And a pleasant morning to you, too, sunshine."

Donna's lack of life not dampening his enthusiasm in the slightest, the Doctor raced to the other side of the central console. "I've been waiting _hours_ for you to stop sleeping! Now we can finally go somewhere…what do you think? Ramora 5? Epsolara? It's your choi-"

The Doctor's long suppressed ramble stopped when he heard a croak. Similar to when someone's just been shot. Then he heard an agonized splutter, similar to when someone's just swallowed a gulp of scalding hot coffee.

Donna's mug dropped to the floor, spilling coffee through the grill. The Doctor could swear he heard the TARDIS sigh in contentment.

He looked up sharply. Donna was backed against the wall, shocked awake from the looks of it, one arm sticking straight out, pointing in front of the Doctor at something he couldn't see. "That…that…that…"

The Doctor thought to himself that she sounded like a broken record. He giggled a little, but on the inside, because he thought Donna probably wouldn't appreciate him doing it out loud and the coffee mug was still within ready reach of her hand. He peered around the time rotor, his gaze following Donna's eyes. Understanding blossomed.

"Oh. That." The Doctor turned back to Donna.

She was still stuck on her first word.

The Doctor wondered with mild interest what the galactic record for Time Spent Sputtering (Human) was, but then the coffee must have kicked in because Donna managed to finish her sentence.

"THAT'S A HAND!"

The Doctor smirked. "Your grasp of anatomy is astounding."

Donna let out a gurgle.

Ah, apparently it was still too early for sarcasm.

"THAT's a bleeding hand!" Donna appeared to be sticking with the one thing she was absolutely sure of at the moment.

The Doctor walked around the central console and joined her against the wall. He scratched his head. "Well, it's not actually bleeding. And it's _my_ hand, if that makes things any better." He gave Donna a quick smile.

"What the HECK is a hand doing here?"

Ah. Apparently that didn't make things better. The Doctor gave up.

"It's resting?"

It was still early enough that Donna let that one slide too. She gave another gurgle and took a step sideways, tripping over her feet and crashing to the ground. Her eyes remained blearily focused on the source of her distress.

The Doctor couldn't stop himself. "Need a hand?"

His words seemed to finally penetrate Donna's sleep-fogged consciousness. This one hit home.

If looks were daggers, BOTH his hearts would have just been stabbed.

* * *

_Heh heh. Not quite sure where that one came from. I like it, though, because I feel like the Doctor often feels as if those around him are half-asleep. _

_Anyways, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I've been crazy busy with student teaching, but have slowly started posting stuff again. Look for the final chapter of _**Memories** _to be posted before the new year. (And if I don't post it, yell at me to provide motivation!) And I recently posted another story, _**Finding Donna**_, so make sure to check it out if you haven't done so yet!_

_Ah, it feels good to be back._


	91. What would I become?

**What would I become?**

**A/N: **This is most definitely an AU story. The idea came when I had watched about half of "The Next Doctor." I thought for sure the story was going to end with the (next) Doctor dying, and this is the fic that came as a result of that thought.

* * *

"_You've never actually been up?_"

"_I can depart in the TARDIS once London is safe…but finally when I'm up there-think of it John. Time and space..._" _His voice trails off wistfully._

_The Doctor turns his head to look at him, a strange look in his eyes. "The perfect escape."_

_And for a moment they stand together, gazing at the stars. _

_But then the Doctor breaks the silence. "Do you ever wonder what you're escaping from?"_

_His face darkens. "With every moment."_

* * *

And so the Doctor tells him.

Oh how he tells him.

* * *

"…_But I am the Doctor." _

_He says it simply. _

_He says it without hope._

* * *

"_I am nothing but a lie."_

* * *

...

* * *

The Doctor stands there. Thinking.

About what he would be if you took away his TARDIS.

And his sonic screwdriver.

His psychic paper.

All his tools and treasures, lovingly carried through the years…

_What would I become?_

All he would have left was his name. It wasn't even real…

But…still…

It reminded him of who he was. Who he wanted to be.

And the Doctor thinks…_What if they took away my name?_

What would he be then?

Nothing.

He would be nothing.

And the Doctor suddenly shudders, standing in the street, looking at the man sprawled across the ground.

* * *

"_He's dead. Jackson Lake is dead."_


End file.
